A Drink to Old Friends
by Surreptitious Chi X
Summary: Ibiki visits Hayate's grave for the first time. Afterwards, he stops at a bar for a drink, only to run into Iruka. Somehow, Ibiki manages to unwittingly unleash Iruka's caring streak upon himself. It seems getting rid of the teacher is going to be quite impossible. Iruka x Ibiki.
1. Chapter 1

A Drink to Old Friends

Chapter 1

The air was crisp, the sky blue; early afternoon sun fell across the polished granite grave marker. The clean, legible kanji stood out on the pale gray stone, the furrows in the stone painted black so that everyone could read the name of the person who was buried here. 月光 颯: Gekkou Hayate.

Ibiki didn't pay his respects in any particular way. He touched the top of the grave marker, he bowed his head, and he looked at the name of his teammate. He thought back to some of the last times he'd seen his teammate's face, remembering the man alive instead of dead and all that. Then he left a bouquet of white flowers. Yamanaka Inoichi sold him white when he said what he wanted the flowers for. He'd said anything would be good enough, but Inoichi had sold him white.

Gekkou Hayate. Moonlight Swift. It was a pretty nice name. The rest of the Gekkou clan was already laid out around Hayate in their own little graves, all of them cremated like Hayate had been.

After the invasion attempt, there were a lot of new gravestones in the shinobi cemetery. A lot of good shinobi died in that attempt. Some bad ones, too. But he was only here for the one; just Gekkou. He hadn't had a chance before. Events leading up to the invasion had moved too fast.

Once he laid his flowers down, he had no reason to say, so he turned around and left. He knew people would say he had been pretty business-like, but he didn't care what people would say. People said all sorts of things about him. 'Business-like' was one of the nicest things they could have said.

Ibiki went to the bar on Akihappa Street, a place with a dim interior and old, weathered wooden surfaces. He liked it. The place had that smoky atmosphere he enjoyed; the kind where he could pretend that he was still in the information-gathering business and not the Head Interrogator of T&I, who made everyone bring the suspects to him. He missed ferreting out suspects in their seedy home locales, he missed that sense that the people he was subtly plucking information from were at ease.

As laughable as it would be to most people, he missed the sense that he was pleasant company, that he was wanted, and that he could strike up an easy conversation with someone. That used to be his specialty. Gekkou had known that. Now Gekkou was dead.

Ibiki found himself wanting a drink, and not just the atmosphere. He made his way to the counter, walking past tables half-shrouded in darkness. He was surprised to see a familiar figure sitting on a stool at the bar: Umino Iruka.

Ibiki sat down next to the man out of sheer curiosity.

"I thought teachers didn't drink," Ibiki said.

Iruka gave him a look. "Teachers don't get drunk," he corrected with a teasing smile. "There's a difference, Morino-san. I'll drink, but I won't get drunk."

"And what do you drink?" Ibiki asked. "Something girly, I'll bet." He smirked.

"I do not," Iruka retorted.

Ibiki laughed. "Sure you don't. I bet you're a chuhai drinker." Chuhai was a fruit flavored mixed drink with a low alcohol content.

Iruka made a face. "I am not."

"Plum wine, then," Ibiki said.

"Neither, Morino-san." Iruka sighed.

"Well, how do I know what to get you if you won't tell me what you like?" Ibiki asked.

Iruka gave him a look. "As long as you're buying…happoshu."

"Happoshu?" It was Ibiki's turn to make a face. "Sparkling beer? Really?"

"I like it," Iruka said. He tossed his head. "Now, are you ordering it or not? I'll order it myself if I have to, Morino-san."

Ibiki raised his hand. "Oi. Happonshu for the school teacher."

Iruka gave Ibiki a dirty look for being referred to that way, but Ibiki pretended not to notice.

"I prefer 'Academy instructor'," Iruka corrected pointedly.

"I'm sure you do," Ibiki said.

Iruka recovered and smiled at Ibiki sweetly. "What would you like, Morino-san?"

"Whiskey," Ibiki said. "On the rocks." He didn't actually know what that would taste like, but he wanted to prove the most masculine thing he could think of, just to make a point. He'd always wanted to try whiskey. He heard it was awful.

Iruka raised his hand. "One whiskey on the rocks, please."

"That's not how a man orders," Ibiki objected.

"Isn't it?" Iruka twirled a strand of hair around his finger. "I'm a man, and I ordered that way. Ergo, Morino-san, a man does order that way. Me."

Ibiki rolled his eyes.

"Why?" Iruka asked. "How should I have ordered?"

"You're supposed to say, 'Oi!' A good, deep sound, speaking from the stomach." Ibiki gestured. "And you don't say 'please'."

Iruka sniffed. "Sounds impolite."

"Sounds like a man, you mean," Ibiki said.

"Oh, so men aren't polite."

"No. Not at all."

Iruka said, "Then you, Morino-san, are very, very manly."

Ibiki grinned. "Thank you."

Their drinks came.

Iruka opened his can of happonshu, and Ibiki stirred his whiskey on the rocks with the little plastic stick it came with.

"So why are you here?" Iruka asked finally.

"I felt like it," Ibiki said.

Iruka gave him a wry half-smile. "I gathered that."

"Well, why are you here?" Ibiki asked.

"I have to grade papers," Iruka said. "That would drive any man to drink." He raised his can of sparkling beer. "Kampai."

"Kampai," Ibiki murmured, amused. He raised his glass of whiskey in turn, and they both took their first sip of their drinks.

"What drives you to drink?" Iruka asked.

"My friend." Ibiki studied the way the dim light glinted off the ice cubes in his glass.

"Sounds like a bad friend," Iruka said.

"A dead friend," Ibiki said.

"Oh."

Ibiki glanced at Iruka, smiling. "It's been a while. It's okay. He died a few months back. I've had time to think it over and accept. So you don't have to go, 'Oh', and be all silent, like you're sorry for me and stuff."

Iruka frowned. "And what if I am sorry for you?"

"In general, or because I lost my friend?" Ibiki asked.

Iruka winced.

"Got you." Ibiki pointed at him, and then took another sip of whiskey.

Iruka made a face and cupped his chin in his hands, resting his elbows on the counter. "I can't help it. It's just too awful. Your whole team."

"What, you mean because Tokara got a faulty fuse in his explosive pack and got blown to bitty bits?" Ibiki said cheerfully. "And I came back a bloody, meaty mess from one of my missions because I got too careless and got myself captured and tortured half to death? Because Gekkou died being carved into steaks by some traitorous Sand devil?" He grinned. "Comes with the territory, Umino. Get used to it."

Iruka looked singularly crestfallen and upset.

Ibiki nudged him. "Now drink your beer and go back to grading your papers, Academy instructor. Don't worry about that kind of stuff. It'll give you wrinkles. And then all the kids will say you're old."

Iruka narrowed his eyes at the interrogator. "They say that already."

"Then figure out how to get a few less lines," Ibiki said reasonably. "Oh, I know. Ask Tsunade what kind of jutsu she uses. 'Cause it's a killer." He chuckled. "Honestly, some fifty year old lady flouncing around like she's twenty-eight. Hilarious."

"I think she'll be insulted if you peg her age at twenty-eight," Iruka said. "She is nothing if not vain, our Hokage."

"Twenty-four, then," Ibiki amended. "And don't tell her I ever went a year over."

Iruka took a pensive sip of his beer. "I never knew him that well."

"Who?" Ibiki was disoriented by the change in conversation.

"Hayate-san," Iruka said.

"Oh." Ibiki gestured carelessly. "Don't bother."

"Tell me about him," Iruka said quietly.

Ibiki groaned. "Okay. I will. He was a good guy, and he died with honor. Next?"

Iruka gave him a stare Ibiki imagined regularly cut down pre-genin children.

Ibiki held up his hands. "Look, if you're asking for the personal stuff, I don't have it. We weren't that close as kids. We weren't that close as adults. I just don't know. I know he was a good person, and he wanted to go down fighting. I knew he worked really hard to make sure he stayed on his feet, and he worked really hard to convince his family and our Sandaime to give him a chance at being a ninja. Ordinarily someone with his condition would never be allowed to participate in active duty, but Gekkou held his own."

He took a deep breath, and a sip of his drink. "And I know he was getting worried by the end. He only had a few more years to live, a few more months of mobility, at the most, and he was sure that he wasn't going to be able to go down fighting after all. The invasion was a godsend. Ironically." He gave Iruka a crooked smile. "Gekkou got his way after all. He would have hated to be confined to a hospital bed the last two years of his life. He spent the first eight in and out of hospitals trying to train, to get strong enough to leave forever."

"He was that bad off?" Iruka asked.

"Yup," Ibiki said. "He was sick for life."

Iruka looked shocked.

"He was dying," Ibiki said. He took a sip of whiskey. "I mean, we're all dying, but he was doing it quicker. He had a pulmonary disease or something like that. He told me the name of it once, but I forgot, because it was too long. Nicknamed Suzuki Disease or something." Ibiki shook his head. "All I know is, he could hardly breathe sometimes, and he got shit sleep. That's what was with the circles under his eyes. Man was a chronic insomniac."

"Wow," Iruka said. He sipped his beer. "I never knew."

Ibiki gave Iruka a look. "Not like he liked to advertise. But I had to listen to him. Hacking away…" Ibiki shrugged. "It was worst when he lay down. Then he'd hack, and cough, and he'd just be miserable. I could hear him most nights, when we were on missions. Finally, he learned how to sleep sitting up. That alleviated the worst of the pain and choking."

He shook his head, smiling. "But man, could that guy do kenjutsu. I mean, he was amazing. His whole family is –or was – but Gekkou was really something else. Beautiful. You could see why he stuck with it, after you got to see his skills with a katana."

Briefly, in his mind, he could see Gekkou fighting in one of their battles during the war. Flashes of silvery light. Falling bodies. And Gekkou high above everyone's heads, somehow still, as if he could float. Then Gekkou would land, sheath his sword, and the show would be over. After using one of his jutsus, he'd lapse into coughing, more often than not.

"You must miss him," Iruka said softly. He rested a warm, gentle hand on Ibiki's shoulder.

Ibiki tilted his head, giving Iruka a bemused look. "You don't need to sympathize with me. I'm over it. I knew I could be sending him to his death. And hell, that's what he wanted." Ibiki took a long sip at his whiskey. He drained it almost down to nothing.

Iruka gestured. "Another shot for Morino-san, please."

Ibiki started to shake his head, but stopped when his glass was promptly refilled. "You trying to get me drunk or something?" he muttered.

"No, just being polite. You don't have to drink it," Iruka said.

Ibiki took a swallow of his refilled whiskey on the rocks anyway.

"Have you cried?" Iruka asked softly.

Ibiki glared, offended. "What do you mean, 'have I cried'? What is this?" He knew that the alcohol might be making him a little belligerent, but still. That question. A big no-no.

Iruka rubbed his shoulder in a motion that was way too much contact. "I'm not trying to offend you, Morino-san. I just want you to know…it's okay to feel your feelings."

"It's okay to feel my feelings?" Ibiki stared at him.

"Yes," Iruka said. He gave Ibiki a look brimming with sincere sympathy.

Ibiki let out a laugh and knocked back the rest of his glass of whiskey. "I don't need your grade school, sing-along common sense." He stood up and tossed down enough money to pay for Iruka's drink, and a tip. "Thanks for nothing."

Iruka shot off of his barstool and took Ibiki's arm before Ibiki had gone more than two steps. "You need to be careful. You look unsteady." He glanced at the counter and tossed money down for Ibiki's drinks. Then he looked up at Ibiki with wide eyes. "You should let me take you home."

Ibiki shook his head in disbelief. "You crazy little schoolteacher. Are you trying to pick me up or something?"

"I'm concerned," Iruka protested.

"Concerned people don't tell me to cry after getting me drunk on whiskey," Ibiki said.

"You got yourself drunk," Iruka retorted. "I just paid for it because I'm a nice person."

Ibiki laughed. "A nice person. Right."

"I am." Iruka pouted, looking hurt. "People say I am…"

"Well, maybe they don't know this side of you," Ibiki said reasonably.

Iruka's expression quickly transformed into outrage. "What side of me? I'll have you know I can lay you out flat in six seconds, Morino-san, whiskey or no whiskey!"

"Throw down," Ibiki said, yanking his arm away and stepping backwards. He raised his fists. "Come on."

"Don't be an idiot," Iruka said. He tilted his head, his expression serious. "Although, I will fight if it makes you feel better."

"If it makes me –" Ibiki didn't know how to react to that. "You're still trying to put me through therapy. For a grief I told you doesn't exist."

"That's right." Iruka narrowed his eyes at the interrogator.

"You're impossible!" Ibiki clenched and unclenched his hands, most of his annoyance gone. He couldn't fight Iruka now.

"So let me walk you home," Iruka said, taking his arm and leading him towards the door.

Ibiki complied out of pure shock. Until he formulated some other form of action, he'd have to go along with Iruka's suggestions.

* * *

Author's Note: I found out I screwed up Hayate's name. LuxaLovesLawnmowers also had the guts to point that out to me. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Sunlight hit him in the eyes as soon as they got out onto the street. Ibiki stopped and squinted. He'd forgotten that it was still early in the afternoon. It couldn't be later than three. And he'd gone drinking? Why?

"Bright out here," he mumbled.

Iruka steadied him, which he definitely didn't need the teacher to do, and they set off in the general direction of his apartment.

"I wasn't that close to him," Ibiki said.

"Who?" Iruka scanned the streets.

"Gekkou," Ibiki said.

"Are you sure?" Iruka asked. "Because even though you're not calling him by his first name, I sense attachment."

Ibiki gritted his teeth. "I'm sure, Umino."

"But you're upset," Iruka said.

"I'm not."

"You visited his grave today," Iruka said. "That's it, isn't it? This is the first time you had the chance, and now that you've been there, you realize that it's fresher than you thought."

"What it? What's fresher?"

"Your grief," Iruka said.

Ibiki didn't have an answer to that.

"So you came into the bar for a drink," Iruka said. "And I was there."

"Hmph. Wish you weren't," Ibiki grumbled.

Iruka steered him around people, as if he would have gotten into someone's way. Which was silly, really, because if he had strayed into someone's path, that person would have gotten out of the way, surely. He was the head of T&I. "Lucky for you that I was," Iruka retorted. "How many drinks would you have had otherwise?"

"One." Ibiki glared at him. "You're the one that refilled my glass, Umino, and I still think it was to come on to me."

"Do you talk to everyone this way, or only the ones that you like?" Iruka asked, casting him a wry glance.

"Don't be ridiculous." Ibiki frowned a very manly frown, which was certainly not a pout, and he wasn't sulking.

Silence lapsed between them. Iruka seemed to be doing his damnedest to navigate him around obstacles, and Ibiki, for some reason he didn't understand, seemed to be giving Iruka a run for his money. Why he felt the temptation to almost knock over some of the oranges from a precarious pyramidal display at a fruit stand they passed, he didn't know. He apparently felt like it, though, because his arm got dangerously close. Iruka tugged him away at the last moment.

"I'm not drunk," Ibiki announced.

Iruka snorted and gave him an affectionately exasperated look. "Of course not. You're very drunk."

"I am not. It takes more than two drinks to fell the great Morino Ibiki."

Iruka visibly suppressed a smile. "You're not taking any medications, are you?"

That caught up to Ibiki all at once. Specifically, four different medications he'd been taking for years, that he'd known said on the bottles not to take with alcohol. He'd just never had to pay attention before, because it had never occurred to him to have a drink.

He'd forgotten. It had been so long since the medication had been prescribed, he'd actually forgotten.

Ibiki swallowed, noticing for the first time the dryness in his mouth. "I'm very, very drunk."

"Oh, I see," Iruka said. He sounded admirably neutral.

"And about to get drunker." Ibiki couldn't imagine that the alcohol was even fully into his system yet. It took a while. He'd stayed at the bar what, thirty minutes? It would take longer than that to filter the drinks out of his body.

"I'm sorry that I didn't think of that sooner, Morino-san."

Ibiki glanced at him. The teacher actually seemed sorry. "That's not your responsibility," he protested. "It's mine. What are you, my mother?"

"No," Iruka said. His brow furrowed regretfully. "I'm sorry, though. I shouldn't have bought you that drink. Anything to drink."

"I would have bought it myself," Ibiki said mildly. "I didn't remember."

They needed to cross the street to get where they were going. Ibiki tripped over the curb of the sidewalk somehow.

Iruka wrapped his arms around Ibiki's waist, catching his full weight somehow, and helped Ibiki cross without missing a beat.

"I shouldn't have ordered anything, that's all," Ibiki said.

"Your actions can be excused," Iruka murmured.

"I shouldn't have even come to the bar. Why did I go there?" Ibiki frowned. He couldn't remember what he had been thinking. He'd just…wanted to go. He knew the place, from his old days, and he wanted to go, he wanted to see the interior again, because…

_Because that was the last place I saw Gekkou before we split up as a team_. That realization was a cold pulse through Ibiki's body. He froze, stumbling.

He hardly noticed Iruka helping him, steering him around a lamppost.

_Did I really think I would see him there? Am I that messed up? Or did I just think it would be nice to relive the old days? Either way, that's sentimental. Horribly sentimental. I can't afford to be sentimental._

Ibiki was suddenly afraid.

"Umino, do you even know where my apartment is?" Ibiki demanded. The street was gently spinning, the buildings looking like they were leaned forward, could fall down on them at any moment. He knew it was an optical illusion, but it was still unpleasant.

Iruka gave him an oddly stern look. "Morino-san, your address is on all the official work you turned in. Your records are on file in my department. I am the Paperwork Ninja, remember?"

Ibiki was humbled. _Oh. That's right_. Then, with a flicker of nervousness in the pit of his stomach: _He probably knows all my secrets. All there is to know about my capture and torture…It's not sealed, any of it. Why should it be? Vanity? Vulnerability? I don't have those things. I – God, I bet he can see right through me._

He felt nauseous, and he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol and drug interaction.

"It's getting worse," he mumbled, half-consciously warning Iruka. He tightened his grip on Iruka's shoulder, wanting to speak an apology, but none would come. The street distorted in a new direction, slanting up, making it look as if he should be walking uphill when his feet told him the street was level.

Ibiki shuddered. Somehow, the effect was just too horrible. He shut his eyes.

"Maybe I should take you to the hospital," Iruka said. He sounded worried.

"No, don't," Ibiki blurted.

Iruka stopped, held him steady in place for a moment. "Are you sure?" he asked finally.

"Know how to use chakra to cleanse toxins if I'm wrong?" Ibiki asked.

"Yes," Iruka said wryly. "Everyone knows that." He started walking again, taking Ibiki with him. "Alright, Morino-san. If you get much sicker, I'll make you throw up. That should do some good."

A basic charge of chakra through the body to encourage cleansing made the patient throw up. Ibiki knew there wasn't a ninja in the village who could forget first aid because of that; they'd all learned as a class, taking turns making each other puke. For safety, the teacher said. Some people had to try three or four times before getting the jutsu just right. Ibiki had been partners with someone like that; he'd thrown up until all he could do was retch stomach acid. And there had been no complaining allowed. _This procedure will save lives,_ the teacher said sternly.

"You ever have to make one of your kids throw up before?" Ibiki asked, suddenly struck by Iruka's responsibilities as a teacher.

"Once or twice." Iruka sounded amused. "You'd be the biggest one, though."

"Ha, ha," Ibiki said. "You try to spank me, and I'll rip your head off."

"Being drunk makes you hostile," Iruka noted.

"Being alive makes me hostile," Ibiki retorted. Then he realized what he'd said, and really wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

Iruka was silent for almost five minutes.

"We're almost there," Iruka said.

Ibiki opened his eyes, squinting. They were in front of his apartment building. "Oh."

"But I need your key," Iruka said.

"Right."

The front door of the apartment building was locked with one key, and the door to Ibiki's apartment with another. He handed Iruka both keys, no longer certain which was which.

Iruka got them inside, that was the important part.

Ibiki watched his feet while they walked down the hall towards the stairs. For some reason, the beige carpet made him want to puke. Usually, it was so unassuming.

Iruka sighed. "You should really change living quarters."

"Why?" Ibiki protested. "I like my apartment."

"Yes, but it's on the third floor," Iruka said.

Nevertheless, he helped Ibiki up the first flight of stairs, and let Ibiki rest for a few moments before helping him climb the second flight of stairs to the third floor. Ibiki was sweating heavily by the time they reached the top, and he knew it couldn't be because of the exercise. Maybe he should have just gone to the hospital.

Ibiki pushed that thought away. _That is not the way to commemorate Gekkou._ Then he wanted to slap himself. _Suffering in my apartment is? _But when he thought about it, he had to agree. _Yeah. Gekkou always preferred to suffer at home rather than go to the hospital. He hated it there. He said he never wanted to go back. That's why…_

_That's why when the mission came up I gave it to him._

Ibiki felt a wave of almost unbearable sadness. He just felt so heavy and lifeless. Everything was sinking, and he didn't think he could stay up.

A strong arm around his waist prevented him from collapsing onto the floor. Ibiki raised his head and saw that they were in front of the door to his apartment. He could see the number.

"Stay with me," Iruka said. He seemed to be speaking softly. "I'll get you inside and help you into bed. Just hang on a little longer, Morino-san. We're almost there."

He unlocked the door and brought Ibiki inside.

Ibiki couldn't hide his relief. There was something more real about the familiar space of his apartment than there was about the hallway or the streets. Something steadying. The same white tile and pale wood of the kitchen, the same beige-gray carpet in the foyer and the living room. The hallway leading from the living room to the back of the house, where his bedroom lay.

He really wanted to lie down. His legs felt like they were made out of cotton.

"I killed him," Ibiki blurted. "I killed my friend." He shook his head, trying to clear it. _Not now, Morino. Pull yourself together._ _Not while the Academy teacher is watching. For god's sakes… Look good for him, at least._

Iruka supported him while he stepped out of his sandals. Then, somehow, he was shedding things: his bandana, his coat, his gloves. They all seemed to be just falling off somehow.

Then he twisted and caught Iruka hanging up his coat on a peg by the door and understood. "Hey, give that back. You don't know that it goes there."

"But it does," Iruka said. He turned and took Ibiki's arm, securing it over his shoulders and helping Ibiki walk across the living room.

Ibiki's vision was fuzzy. "To the left. At the end of the hall."

"I know," Iruka assured him. "I'll find it. Don't worry, Morino-san. I've got you. I've got this taken care of."

Ibiki wondered what Iruka could possibly mean.

Iruka got him into the bedroom, and over to his bed, somehow able to pick him up and help him in, pulling back the covers. He sat up against the headboard, his pillows cushioning his back, and looked at Iruka. He felt oddly underdressed somehow in nothing but his T&I uniform. _Oh…_ Ibiki looked down at his scarred hands, inspecting them as if for the first time. He'd never really looked before. Just tried to get on with his life. His hands felt cold, too.

But Iruka wouldn't know he normally kept his gloves on. Iruka was just trying to help.

Just like Iruka was trying to help now. The teacher leaned over and unbuttoned his slate blue jacket, revealing the white t-shirt Ibiki wore underneath. He pulled his arms out, allowing Iruka to take his jacket off.

"Whatcha gonna do with that?" Ibiki mumbled.

Iruka chuckled and opened the closet. "I'm guessing it goes in here."

"Good guess." Ibiki watched the teacher hang his jacket up in the closet. He sighed. Now his neck and his arms up to his biceps were exposed, allowing Iruka to see the ravaging scars there.

Iruka closed the closet and padded back to the side of the bed. "Do you want your pants off, too, Morino-san?"

Ibiki shook his head.

Iruka slid into bed beside him and pulled the covers up over them both.

"Who invited you?" Ibiki protested.

Of all the galling things, Iruka hugged him, pressing their bodies together. Ibiki closed his eyes and let his head fall on Iruka's shoulder. He felt disoriented and confused at the warmth of the teacher's body. No one held him like this. He hadn't felt the warmth of a human body in years.

Ibiki felt himself shaking, his body disobeying his commands, and heard a small sob escape him. Then he was crying, hot, painful tears. They slid down his cheeks, stinging. "I can't do this anymore. I don't have any friends left." He didn't know what he was talking about. It had to be the alcohol. He wouldn't talk this way. He wasn't this weak.

Iruka hugged him tightly, rocking him.

Ibiki fell on him, pinning the teacher to the mattress with his weight, and Ibiki didn't have the strength to sit up.

"It's okay," Iruka said softly, pulling the covers up tighter around them. "It's alright…let it out. Morino-san, it's alright to cry." Iruka stroked his back with a warm, gentle hand. It felt better through the thin fabric of the t-shirt than it had when his body was muffled up in so much extra clothing.

Ibiki hiccupped, and didn't have a ready reply. He couldn't think of one. His head was packed full of aching emptiness. He let his tears trickle down and soak into Iruka's vest. "I didn't want him to leave. I knew he was suffering, but I didn't want him to leave." As soon as he said it, then he was really sobbing. All the guilt. It crested over him in a wave, drowning him in self-hatred. "I wanted him to go slow. I wanted him to die slowly, so I could count every breath. I'm a sadist."

_I am a sadist_. He always told himself that he wasn't, he always brushed off the criticism. Telling himself: I'm doing this for the good of Konoha. They don't understand how cruel I need to be. They don't understand the kind of people I deal with. I'm keeping them safe by doing this.

"I wanted to breathe with him," Ibiki begged, knowing it was already too late. "I wanted to breathe for him, to help him breathe. But I knew it couldn't be that way. So I should have let him go."

"You did let him go," Iruka said.

Ibiki was confused. Then he remembered: the mission, Gekkou asking to go, the argument they'd had, his friend's eyes pleading with him. The way he'd eventually relented, after hearing Gekkou cough. Gekkou's lungs struggling for air, because he'd forced his friend to argue. He'd let Gekkou go. Knowing. Just knowing. This was Kabuto. Who was he kidding? Kabuto and Baki, the top teacher from Sand. Gekkou was a dying special jonin. They'd find his friend out. And they'd kill him before he had a chance to get to safety.

But that was what Gekkou wanted.

Ibiki's stomach churned. He'd waited, and waited, pacing in his office, just knowing. Knowing before he heard the report hours later that Gekkou hadn't survived. Knowing that they'd find Gekkou's body before they did.

He just hadn't expected the mutilation. The moment he saw that, the moment he looked down at the body and saw how badly mangled, how badly cut up it was, the tiny part of him that cared, that he'd allowed to feel, curled up inside. Hiding. Hiding from the friend that was no longer a human being. A friend who no longer existed. A corpse, a used up thing, best to be discarded, the human being memorialized on a stone.

That was what he got, for letting Gekkou go up against Baki of the Sand.

Ibiki shifted against Iruka, moaning and retching.

Iruka tightened his arms around the interrogator. "Morino-san? Do you need to –?"

"I don't know." Forcing out the words was an effort.

Iruka helped him up, helped him through the door into the bathroom, and lifted the toilet seat.

Ibiki threw up painfully, feeling like his stomach was a tube of toothpaste being squeezed and rolled up.

Iruka thoughtfully shot a charge of chakra through him to aid in the process and made him throw up again.

Ibiki felt much better after the second, chakra-induced time.

Iruka helped him rinse his mouth out with mouthwash and flushed the toilet. Then they stumbled back into Ibiki's bed together and curled up under the covers.

"I loved him," Ibiki mumbled. "I really loved him. He was my friend."  
"I know." Iruka stroked his head.

Ibiki didn't have the heart to tell Iruka he didn't let people do that.

Yuugao's face suddenly flashed through his mind. "He had a loved one." Ibiki didn't know why he was saying this to the chunin; it was all too personal. Secret, even. "We all met in ANBU. He wasn't unloved. She wanted him to live, too. Wanted him to find a cure." Tears of frustration streaked his cheeks. "If he'd just lived to see Tsunade's return –"

Then he held onto Iruka dearly, with all his might, sobbing so hard he made himself cough. "He could have lived." This strained, desperate, forlorn voice couldn't possibly he is. "If he'd just hung on, he could have lived. I know she could have saved him. She could have. If he'd just…not…gone on that mission. I –"

Ibiki's breath hitched as his true horror unfurled inside of him. "I sent him to his death when it wasn't necessary. Tsunade could have healed him. He and Yuugao could have gotten married. We could have – we could have all lived through this stupid invasion –"

His breaths came short and fast, gasping. "It's my fault. It's all my fault he's dead. It's my fault he died. I killed him. I killed him."

His head was pounding, threatening to burst apart. It hurt so much. More than anything, he wanted to stab himself. Cut out this part that hurt and rip it out, throw it on the floor, declaim it. Erase it. Stomp on it. Torch it. Anything. Anything to get rid of the torture.

"I can't do this," Ibiki said. At this point he was just babbling. He knew it. "I can't do this anymore." He looked at Iruka with wide eyes, unable to take back what he'd just said now that he'd said it. He'd gone over the line.

"Then don't do this anymore," Iruka said softly.

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is." Iruka rubbed his back.

"But it's not. It's really not." Ibiki heard the catch in his voice and knew he was close to crying again. _God damnit. Why won't this stop? _

"Trust me," Iruka whispered. He rested his face against the side of Ibiki's head.

It was like a dam broke.

"The first time, they just broke my arms trying to make me tell," Ibiki said. "Th-That was in Iwagakure, during the war. Not the official war, the secret war. You know the one." Hostilities had actually continued for another five years, under the table in both countries. Outwardly, they'd declared peace, but inwardly, they still fought, unwilling to expose their hostilities to the other nations.

He pressed himself against Iruka, taking comfort from Iruka's solidity. "How I begged. I begged and begged. I told them they wouldn't get what they wanted, and they still went ahead." His voice tapered off sadly. "Didn't believe me."

Iruka stroked his head. "I'm so sorry."

"I woke up in the hospital being wheeled down the hall on the way to surgery," Ibiki said. "They had to reset my bones and I don't know what else. I was in so much pain. They had me hooked up to a respirator and I didn't know how to breathe. I'd never been on one before." He was tense, quivering. He remembered the bright lights and the echoing of the wheels as they hit every spot where two floor tiles met. The noise had seemed a deafening clatter to him at the time.

"I cried the whole time. I just cried. I don't know why." Ibiki remembered being humiliated. Feeling utterly worthless. "Gekkou was there. When I got out of surgery. He stayed by my bed in the recovery room, and he went with me down the hall to my real room, and he sat with me." His lips twitched in a trembling smile. "That cough of his…it sounded good to me. To hear it again…I liked it. Even though I knew it meant he was suffering, it was familiar. I…I'm so sorry." He squeezed his eyes shut, but tears pushed their way out and rolled down his cheeks anyway.

"For what?" Iruka asked softly.

"Telling you all this stuff." But that wasn't all. Ibiki forced himself to relax. He fell limp with a shaky breath. "For feeling like Gekkou was my lifeline." He swallowed, and added, "Yuugao visited, too. She came to stand by me, and Gekkou, and we saw this through together. I was so happy to be out of the hospital and be on my…on my own again. Because…I'd beaten them. I hadn't said anything, and they had tried to hurt me, and I still didn't say anything. I stayed true. I was loyal."

"It's everything to be proud of," Iruka reassured him. "I would be proud, too. You were amazing, to withstand that amount of pain and not break. I can see why you got promoted to Head Interrogator so quickly after that. You'd proved your loyalty in a way no one could ask of you. And you passed that test with flying colors."

"Isn't it weak? Isn't it weak, to want to rely on people to be there for you? To make people stay, because you need them so much?" Ibiki asked.

"I could never say that," Iruka said. "Without my precious people, I wouldn't be here today. I couldn't survive on my own, Morino-san. None of us can. That's why Sandaime called us a big family. We're all supposed to be here for each other."

Ibiki clung to him and choked down a sob, his breath hitching. "I'm so scared that now that Gekkou's gone away no one's going to love me anymore." It was the most pathetic thing he had ever said, but he blamed the medication interacting with the alcohol, and the touching, and the crying, and the way Iruka seemed to encourage his confessional behavior, gently absorbing his words and urging him on.

"I love you," Iruka said, his voice low and soft. "So you don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Yuugao's bitter now," Ibiki said. He didn't know what prompted that. "She's hiding, in ANBU. For good…I think that, anyway. I can't blame her. It's too awful, what happened to Gekkou. She blames me. I think she does. I hope she does. She shouldn't blame herself. She wasn't there. She wasn't the one that ordered her fiancé…ordered him to go out and kill himself for the information he could collect. I'm not – " Ibiki swallowed. "I'm not going to hold her responsible. No one should. It was me. It was all me. I'm why…I'm the reason why Gekkou died. I was the cold bastard that ordered him out into the slaughter. Gekkou, against Kabuto and Baki? A slaughter. I knew I shouldn't have done it. I knew I shouldn't have…I…I failed."

"You aren't responsible, any more than she is," Iruka said, sounding distressed. He rocked Ibiki gently. "You did what you could. Hayate-san wanted to die on the field instead of in the hospital. You told me that. He wanted it to end this way. You didn't know there were any other options, that Tsunade was going to come back. You couldn't know. You couldn't know anything like that, and he begged you to let him go. You were selfless."

_Selfless?_ That shattered the last of Ibiki's self-control. "Well, I can't stand to be selfless anymore!" He clung to Iruka as hard as he could. "I don't want you to go! I'm selfish. Very selfish. And I need you. And you can't." Iruka had signed a warrant by taking him home and going this far. No one could care about him this much and then leave. They couldn't. "You can't go!"

Iruka jolted, alarmed. "I'm not going. I'm not going anywhere. Morino-san…"

"I mean ever!"

Iruka stroked his head. "Then I won't go, ever."

"You won't?" Ibiki mumbled.

"No," Iruka said gently.

Absurdly, Ibiki felt exhausted as soon as the panic was over.

"Go to sleep, Morino-san," Iruka said. "I will be here when you wake up. I promise."

Against all odds, Ibiki went to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

In the morning, Ibiki found that Iruka had stayed the night. Snuggled up to him, specifically. In his bed. He didn't know what to do or say.

Things were compounded when Iruka woke up, gave him a sleepy smile, and said, "I'll make us some tea to help us wake up."

Ibiki couldn't fathom how to respond to that. "Good idea," he said finally.

Iruka squeezed him, and then slipped out of bed.

_I didn't ask him to say the night…did I?_ Honestly, what happened yesterday was a blur after visiting Gekkou's grave and going to the bar they used to hang out at.

Ibiki lay in bed for a moment, then sat up. He noticed then that he had been largely undressed. Looking down at his hands, with his scarred fingertips and roughened knuckles, he recalled that Iruka had stripped all of his clothing away in an effort to help him deal with a drug and alcohol interaction. _That was stupid. Why did I do that?_

He found fresh clothing and got dressed, noting at the same time that his bandana and gloves were nowhere to be found. Usually, he kept them in the bedroom. Then he dimly remembered standing in the foyer while those things were taken from him.

Ibiki growled in mild frustration and left the bedroom, padding through the living room and the kitchen.

Iruka glanced up in curiosity. "Where are you…Oh."

Ibiki put his coat on and discovered his bandana and his gloves in the two outside pockets by sticking his hands inside them. He pulled on his gloves first, then took out his bandana.

"I didn't know where else to keep them," Iruka explained. "You were so sick…I just wanted to get you to bed as quickly as possible."

"Hmm," Ibiki said. He took in the way Iruka's blue spandex suit hugged the teacher's sleek frame, and how casually Iruka had gone into his kitchen and found his tea kettle.

His gaze flicked to his dining area. Iruka's vest was draped over the back of a chair. _Comfy. Cozy._ The teacher had clearly made himself at home. For an instant, Ibiki was angry – and then he remembered what he'd said yesterday. It all came rushing back, for some reason. He stared at Iruka's vest. _I asked him to stay…forever?_

Ibiki groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"What kind of tea would you like?" Iruka asked. He gestured to the cabinet. "I see you have green and oolong."

Ibiki tied his bandana around his head and then paused self-consciously. He didn't know how to start. Only that clearly, he had to, or else Iruka was going to move in or something. "Look…all that stuff I said…it was things I should have said to a therapist. I'm sorry."

"It's no problem," Iruka said, wide-eyed.

"But…well…" Ibiki cleared his throat. "You see, I didn't really mean any of it. It's just that – Well, it's par for the course." He fidgeted. "It was a bad drug interaction, and I did lose my friend, and it all got tangled up and tumbled out…What I mean is, you don't have to 'stay with me forever' or any such stuff. That's just what I say when I'm upset."

He offered Iruka a small, crooked smile. "See? I should be back in therapy. I should have made time, cleared my schedule enough to make an appointment, and just gone. I'll do that today. I promise. You don't have to tell anyone I've broken down, or –"

Iruka held up a hand. "Wait. You think I'm going to go straight to the Hokage and report a mental breakdown on you?"

Ibiki looked at him blankly. "Isn't that what you would do? What any of us would do, if we saw a fellow shinobi suffering? Good god, man, this affects our jobs." He gestured. "But I'm telling you, all Tsunade is going to do is order me into therapy, and I'm already going, so…it's not necessary. You can just let this fly under her radar, and I'll be back on my feet before you know it. I'm Morino Ibiki. I don't just give up."

"That is not true," Iruka said, his eyes flashing.

Ibiki bristled, crossing the space between them before he could think. "Excuse me?"

Iruka hastily backed up a couple steps, immediately raising his hands in a defensive posture. "I – I mean, that's not what ninjas do. I'm sure you're a very tough man, Ibiki."

"Ibiki." Ibiki smiled wryly. "First name basis now, is it? Because you watched me have a breakdown?"

"I did more than watch," Iruka said, straightening and lowering his hands. He gave Ibiki a scolding look. "I helped. I helped make it, the fool that I am, and so I helped clean it up. And I love you, you dolt. So don't give me this 'don't report me' crap."

"I just got a little emotional," Ibiki said. "I don't know how I can spell this out for you."

Iruka raised an eyebrow and snorted. "You mean, 'I'm not in love with you, so get out of my apartment'."

Ibiki wondered why that had been so hard for him to say in the first place. "In so many words. Yeah. You got a problem with that?"

"Yes," Iruka said, smiling.

"What?" Ibiki glared at him.

"I love you." Iruka grabbed the lapels of Ibiki's coat and pressed his lips against the interrogator's in a practiced, sensual movement, brimming with the sort of sexual tension he just shouldn't have.

Ibiki uttered a muffled sound, surprised. He couldn't exactly resist. Iruka's mouth was warm and soft, considerate at the same time it was passionate.

Iruka ended the kiss and pulled back. "Do you get it, yet? I can't just turn it off. Once you've made me make that choice, I'm yours. I'm not just going to go away."

"Umino…" Ibiki was at a loss. He licked his lips reflexively.

Iruka stroked his arm. "And I know that you have feelings, too. You didn't just single me out at the bar for no reason, and you didn't let me take you home at random, and you didn't let me stay the night out of some drunken urge for company, because it was all out of your system at that point."

"How many times do I have to say I was just drunk?" Ibiki exclaimed. He wasn't frightened, he was just…well…annoyed. That had to be it, because he was not frightened.

"Say it all you want." Iruka propped his hands on his hips. "You know as well as I do, being drunk doesn't make you change your nature, it makes you sloppy."

"So underneath the big coat and the scowling demeanor there's a guy who wants to be held all night and comforted about the fact that his best friend just died?" Ibiki said incredulously.

"Yes."

"That's not me." Ibiki turned away and walked towards the door.

"Wait!" Iruka protested. He abandoned the tea kettle on the stove without turning the burner on.

"I've got to be going to work. So if you don't mind, Umino…?" Ibiki paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Get out of my apartment."

Iruka nodded to himself, grabbed his vest off of the back of the chair, and hurried to catch up with the interrogator. He slipped his vest back on and buckled it. "You're right. Because you're leaving, why would I stay?"

Ibiki heaved an exasperated sigh and flung the door open, exiting out into the hallway. "Oh, and would you lock up for me? You still have my apartment key, isn't that right?"

Iruka locked the door behind them.

Ibiki held out his hand. "Thank you. Now, you didn't think you would get to hold onto that, did you? Because that's awfully naïve."

Iruka scowled at him and handed over the key. "No, as a matter of fact, I did not think that I would shamelessly steal the key to your abode. Now let's go. You don't want to be late, Morino-san."

"I'm not worried about being late." Ibiki stowed his apartment key in an inside pocket of his coat and gave Iruka a bemused look. If the man thought he was going to hurry to the office like a good little worker, the teacher was in for a surprise.

**xXx**

As Ibiki expected, Iruka followed him down the street for fifteen minutes before becoming confused.

"Where are we going?" Iruka asked.

"Ramen stand," Ibiki said.

"Why?"

"Because I want breakfast before I go to the office," Ibiki said.

"Ramen. For breakfast."

Ibiki glanced at him. "Yes. I happen to like eating noodles for breakfast. That's not so unusual, is it?"

"No…but…"

The Ichiraku Ramen stand came into view. Ibiki smiled. "Ah. Almost there. Good. My stomach's been growling for three blocks now."

Iruka shook his head. "And you call this a healthy way to live?"

"No, I call it wanting to have something besides regret in the morning," Ibiki shot back. "Regret is not very filling."

"Regret?" Iruka looked startled. He faltered, and then had to quicken his pace to keep stride with the interrogator. "You regret what happened last night?"

"I thought I made that very clear," Ibiki said. He sat down in front of the ramen counter. "Hello. One beef ramen, with steak on top. Thank you."

"A thank you?" Iruka raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't believe in manners."

"When I'm drinking," Ibiki said. He gave Iruka a look. "Saying please and thank you for food is just standard."

"Well, you forgot the please," Iruka said.

Ibiki glowered.

Iruka turned to Teuchi and grinned. "A chicken ramen for me, please."

Teuchi nodded. "Right away, Iruka-sensei."

"Thank you." Iruka looked at Ibiki brightly. "There. You see? You'll get the hang of it eventually."

"I am not one of your students," Ibiki said. Teuchi set down his ramen in front of him, and he dug in.

"Ah, but you're living their dream," Iruka teased. "Ichiraku ramen for breakfast."

"Well, when they're big, bad shinobi who could snap someone's neck like a twig, then they can eat Ichiraku's for breakfast, too," Ibiki said reasonably.

Iruka received his ramen, so he dug in as well, watching Ibiki's pace and matching it so that they would finish eating at the same time.

"You're not coming to work with me," Ibiki said.

"Why not?" Iruka asked. He slurped up a mouthful of noodles.

"Because I'm not going to give you the security clearance to get through the door," Ibiki said. He finished his ramen and stood up. "Thank you, Teuchi-san. That was delicious." He set his money down on the counter.

Iruka gave him a dirty look, and then grinned. "So you're going to be difficult. Well, that's okay, Morino-san. I happen to have security clearance myself because of my work with Tsunade. So you can deny me clearance all you like, you're not going to be able to convince anyone else I am a security risk." Iruka finished his ramen and left Teuchi is money as well.

Ibiki sputtered. He turned around, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and just tried to ignore the fact that he was being followed by a nosy Academy teacher.

He faced Iruka in frustration when they reached the front entrance of the office. "Go chaperone some kids or something."

"School's out," Iruka said sweetly, grinning. "I'm all yours for five weeks, before the new school year starts."

"Joy," Ibiki said. He rolled his eyes and entered the office. When they reached the security checkpoint just inside the door, he waved his ID carelessly and jerked a thumb at Iruka. "Don't bother, he's with me." He sighed.

Iruka scampered through the checkpoint with him, looking surprised and pleased.

"Don't get used to it," Ibiki informed him.

Iruka swallowed a grin. "Of course not."

**xXx**

On the way to Ibiki's office, they bumped into Anko, obviously on her way back from buying a can of coffee at the vending machine.

"Ooh." Anko perked up at the sight of them. "You're together?"

"Sort of," Iruka said. "I think."

"No," Ibiki said.

Anko paced them, tilting her head in curiosity. Her gaze flicked from one to the other. "So it's an open relationship?"

"Very open," Ibiki said. "You could say nonexistent."

Iruka gave him a look.

"Really?" Anko lit up.

Ibiki glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. "What's your interest in this?"

"If your relationship with Iruru-chan is so open…how about a threesome?" Anko asked, batting her eyelashes.

"No!" Ibiki snapped.

"I was just asking," Anko said. She drank her coffee on the way down the hall, following them as if she'd been invited. When she was done, she tightened her fist and crunched the empty can of coffee into a little ball.

They reached the door to Ibiki's office. Ibiki unlocked it for the day and turned around to face the both of them. First, he pointed at Anko. "You. Get back to work."

Anko saluted and tossed her compacted can in his waste basket. Then she back flipped down the hall.

Iruka stared at this demonstration of hyperactivity.

Ibiki stabbed his finger at Iruka. "You."

Iruka turned on his heel to face Ibiki. "Yes, Morino-san?" he asked quietly.

Ibiki sighed. "Come in and don't touch anything."

"May I touch the floor?" Iruka asked.

Ibiki ground his teeth and pulled Iruka inside, then closed the door. "Look. Don't give me any lip, and don't baby me, and don't make any trouble. You got that?"

"Yes, Taichou." Iruka saluted.

Ibiki stalked over to his desk and flopped down in his chair, scowling. He'd just gotten here and already there was a mountain of paperwork.

It wasn't long before Iruka stood at his elbow. "May I help?"

"You're not authorized to view this material," Ibiki said.

"But I am," Iruka said. "Where do you think the copies go? I've filed all of your work after you're done with it and have submitted it to the Hokage. Sandaime trusted me to do that job, and Godaime trusts me, too. So you should feel okay." He took the document on top of the pile and started reading it. "Besides, you have far too much work to do. This workload is unreasonable."

"Thank you," Ibiki murmured. "I agree. I could use an assistant in here." He gestured vaguely. "But there are few people that the Hokage trusts with complete access to the information gathered here."

"I'm one of them," Iruka said absently, reading. "I could help you, Morino-san. And not just until school starts."

"How?" Ibiki asked. "Aren't you overworked?"

"Yes, but I'll just shift my time from grading student papers to coming here and cleaning up for you. The new chunin instructors are always begging for more hours, so I'll give my grade work to them. They're starved."

Ibiki blinked at this neat solution. "Well…okay." He paused. "We need to get you a chair."

Iruka glanced up. "I can stand for today. Then, yes. I would like a chair." He gave Ibiki a small smile.

Ibiki belatedly realized that Iruka had wormed his way into the office on a permanent basis. "But don't think this means I have any personal feelings for you."

"Hmm?" Iruka glanced up, his expression impassive once more. "I don't." He went back to reading. A few moments later, he said, "I wouldn't sign off on this confession. It's not right."

"Why not?" Ibiki asked.

"The information may be correct, but it has a spelling error," Iruka said.

Ibiki was exasperated. "We don't care about spelling errors around here as long as the information is correct."

"The error is the prisoner's name."

"Oh." Ibiki took the document from him and scanned it.

Iruka took a red pen from the can of writing utensils on Ibiki's desk and marked the typo by circling it. "See? Here." He leaned in so that he could scan the confession along with Ibiki. "The problem is, when the typo is the man's name, it raises doubt in courts. A lawyer could say that the man's identity is in question, and therefore, the man's confession could be false."

"I know," Ibiki said, without irritation. He was too busy admiring Iruka's efficiency. "Thank you, Umino." Ibiki set the document into the plastic tray on his desk reserved for Corrections. He glanced up at the teacher. "And you're a fast reader."

Iruka nodded. "I have to be. It's important for my job."

"I might get you that chair sooner rather than later," Ibiki mused. Then he cupped his hands to his mouth and called, "Anko-chan!"

Anko popped through the door in less than ten seconds. "Yes, Taichou?"

Ibiki pointed. "Get him a chair. He's staying."

Anko grinned. "Sure." She disappeared again, and reappeared with remarkable efficiency, carrying a wooden chair over her head. She set it down next to Ibiki, at the end of the desk. "Here ya go, Iruru-chan!" She blew him a kiss before running out the door.

Iruka blinked. "Is she really going to call me 'Iruru-chan'?"

"Who knows?" Ibiki shrugged and then went back to proofreading a report from the border.

"Huh." Iruka sank down into his chair. After a few moments, he resumed work, wielding his red pen.

**xXx**

Ibiki clocked off for lunch, and went to the T&I cafeteria. He didn't want to make time to go somewhere else for lunch. He had a lot of work to do, and only about twenty minutes to eat and get back to his office.

The cafeteria was small, but moderately stocked. Ibiki bought himself some beef curry with mushrooms and retreated to one of the tables to eat.

Iruka came in not long after him, selected a bowl of instant ramen, and came over to sit by him at his table when the ramen finished microwaving.

Ibiki raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you think you're going to eat lunch with me now."

"I know so," Iruka said cheerfully.

"Don't you have other places to be?" Ibiki asked.

"Not anymore," Iruka said. He snapped his chopsticks apart with perfect precision and began to eat his instant ramen.

Ibiki would be lying to himself if he told himself he was not slightly concerned. "What do you mean?"

"Hmm?" Iruka swallowed a mouthful of noodles. "I mean, since Naruto's gone. He's gone on that training mission with Jiraiya. Three years. I won't be seeing him for another two years, six months, and three days. If everything goes according to plan."

"You're tracking his arrival down to the day?" Ibiki asked.

Iruka shrugged. "I've got it on my calendar, that's all."

"But you can call that information up at a moment's notice?"

"I've got a good memory."

_Or maybe you're just really lonely. Good god, man. Get a life_. Ibiki didn't say those things…but he wanted to. "If you've got a good memory, maybe you are a security risk in this job. I'll have to post extra guards to your house."

Iruka grinned. "Or you could just let me live with you, Morino-san. Then I'd be right under your nose where you can see me."

Ibiki raised an eyebrow. "Don't you mean, 'smell'?"

"I do not," Iruka said, looking offended. "I am a very clean person."

"For all I care you're a pig," Ibiki said. "You're still not moving in."  
Iruka gave him a look. "Morino-san, pigs are clean animals. Some of the cleanest. If you want a truly dirty animal, you'd have to look to a rabbit or a gerbil."

"Then you're a gerbil," Ibiki said. "I am not letting you into my house."

"You already did," Iruka said.

"Then I won't be doing it again," Ibiki said. He wondered why talking to Iruka was like swimming against the tide.

Iruka looked away, eating his ramen innocently.

Ibiki knew that this conversation wasn't over. He just had to wait for it.

"There would be perks, you know," Iruka murmured.

_I knew it_. Ibiki sighed. "Like what, Umino?"

"Like home-cooked meals and clean socks," Iruka said.

Ibiki almost did a spit-take. "Are you offering to be my wife?"

Iruka looked at him with a patient expression Ibiki thought the man's students probably saw a lot. "Cooking meals and doing laundry are non-gendered chores. It just so happens that every man and woman has to do them for him or herself when no one else is around. Therefore, it is simply a matter of convenience among couples to decide which person does what chores. Often because of upbringing women are more comfortable volunteering for chores like house cleaning and cooking, and men are more comfortable allowing their partners to do those things for them, because traditionally women needed to know those skills and men needed to feign ignorance."

Ibiki attempted to sort through that politically correct speech. "So…if I can do those things, and I am doing those things, every day, then why are you offering to do them for me?"

"Because you don't like to do those things," Iruka said calmly. He went back to his ramen with a slight smile.

Ibiki wondered why Iruka was so excruciatingly on-target. "You're just saying that because I am a man."

"No, I'm saying that because I have been inside of your apartment," Iruka said. He paused, his gaze far away, unfocused in recollection. "I noticed that you had a hamper full of dirty clothing, and according to your To Do schedule pinned to the kitchen refrigerator, it was overdue. You listed 'laundry' on Wednesdays, but it was Thursday yesterday and you hadn't done it. Also, your refrigerator and cupboards are full of instant meals, which I found out when I tried to plan for breakfast, which is why I didn't offer you breakfast in the morning, but only tea."

Ibiki was in too much shock to even shiver at Iruka's thoroughness. "You reconned my house."

"Only because I wanted to help you," Iruka said. His voice was soft, but not apologetic. "I am a ninja."

"I can see that," Ibiki said.

"So do you wish to have clean socks and home-cooked meals more often?" Iruka asked. "Because I don't find those chores repugnant at all, in fact I find them relaxing."

Iruka was much more frightening than he had been two days ago, before Ibiki had met him at the bar. "What chores don't you like?" Ibiki asked wryly.

"Taking out the garbage," Iruka said immediately. "Taking out the garbage in an apartment complex is a pain in the ass."

Ibiki blinked, and then started laughing.

Iruka grinned at him.

"Try teleportation," Ibiki said.

Iruka frowned. "I don't approve the frivolous use of ninjutsu."

"I should have guessed that," Ibiki murmured.

"You should have," Iruka agreed. Then he grinned. "I am a schoolteacher."

"I thought you preferred 'Academy instructor'," Ibiki said.

"I don't care anymore." Iruka shrugged.

_Why not?_ Ibiki found the more he learned, the less he knew. It occurred to him that the only contact he'd had with Iruka before that necessitated speaking was the interrogation after Mizuki's betrayal. Iruka had been bandaged up quite a bit, and his friend's treason was still fresh in his eyes, but he'd answered Ibiki's questions calmly.

Even ones like, 'If he was your friend then how come you didn't see this coming?' Or, 'Since he was your friend that means you were in on this whole thing, weren't you?' The answers had been, respectively, 'Because everyone has hidden sides', and 'No, I wasn't.'

_Everyone has hidden sides, huh, Umino?_ Ibiki mused over that. _Your hidden sides sure are surprising. _

They finished their lunches without another word exchanged.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

They spent a couple hours silently proofreading reports. Ibiki found the unaccustomed, studious company relaxing. He wasn't alone, but he wasn't having to fend off constant interruptions, either. Iruka, it seemed, knew how to be quiet and just work. Anko seemed not to understand or have that particular skill.

Ibiki massaged the bridge of his nose and set aside the interrogation report from Shimon he'd been working on. There were no mistakes; Shimon was always neat and orderly. It was the information that was frustrating. A ninja from Kusagakure was refusing to crack, and he knew something about a missing ANBU team.

That made it Ibiki's job to brush up on everything he could relating to the mission and the team, and crack the prisoner himself. It always came down to this when his men were running out of time.

He cleared his throat, stretched, and flicked through his files for the pertinent report. The team had sent in five days' worth of observations before going missing. Ibiki sighed when he found the report and pulled it out. The thing weighed at least three pounds.

_Well, I better get down to it. _

Ibiki soon lost himself in a thirty-page preliminary report, outlining the purpose of the mission and the initial findings upon arrival on enemy soil.

"When are you going to make time today?" Iruka murmured.

"I'm sorry?" Ibiki looked up from the report. "What did you say?"

"When are you going to make time today to make a therapy appointment?" Iruka asked.

"You're not my secretary," Ibiki said.

"Hmm. I'll consider that when I talk to Tsunade-sama about my new post here," Iruka said.

Ibiki gave him a bemused look. "You're really serious about working here."

"Of course," Iruka said. "You need the help." He waved his pen. "I can be that help. In fact, I'm perfect for the job, even if I do say so myself."

"Yes, well…" Ibiki trailed off. "Even if you're serious about being assigned here, you're still not going to be my secretary."

Iruka looked at him innocently. "What will I be?"

Ibiki had already thought this over, so it was decided in his own mind. Still, telling the man on such short notice made him embarrassed. "My second in command," he mumbled.

Iruka blushed. "Oh. That's very generous, Morino-san. I don't think you've ever had a second in command, have you?"

"No." Ibiki looked away.

A smile spread across Iruka's face.

"But if you think this means I have personal feelings for you, you're wrong," Ibiki said quickly.

"Of course," Iruka said.

Ibiki had the feeling Iruka was just acquiescing to humor him. He didn't like that feeling. He narrowed his eyes at the teacher. "Don't get any funny ideas."

"Funny? Ideas?" Iruka raised his eyebrows. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Like – Like this moving in with me business," Ibiki said, even though it made him uncomfortable to bring the subject up. "What the hell is that? I don't need a babysitter, Umino."

Iruka smiled at him wryly. "Babysitting isn't exactly what I had in mind."

Ibiki felt his cheeks heating up and tried to ignore that physiological response. Because it didn't mean anything. "Oh, yeah?" he blustered.

Iruka leaned over, suddenly making Ibiki aware that their chairs were way too close together, and breathed softly against Ibiki's jaw. "Yeah."

Every nerve and cell in Ibiki's body went haywire, sending off flashing signals. Ibiki stared across the office at the blank white wall, sitting stiffly. "Hmph." The response from his built in arousal detector was definitely not 'hmph', but he wasn't going to give Iruka the satisfaction.

Iruka chuckled and gently kissed Ibiki's ear. "You don't have to be standoffish, Morino-san. There aren't any children present."

It was then that it occurred to Ibiki that eighty percent of what he knew about Iruka was based on the observations of school children. Witnesses that might not have a very well-rounded picture of their teacher.

"Where can I find some?" Ibiki asked gruffly, his voice rougher than usual.

Iruka laughed. "Don't tell me you need saving from little old me."

Ibiki cleared his throat. "Anko," he called.

"Spoil sport." Iruka gave him an amused look.

Anko popped into the office. She took in Iruka's proximity and Ibiki's reddened face in an instant. "Gasp." She lit up. "You've rethought the threesome idea."

"No!" Ibiki snapped.

Iruka laughed.

"Make an appointment for me," Ibiki said. "Therapist. Tomorrow. 3:30. Got that?"

"Hai, Taichou!" Anko saluted with exaggerated military pomp and vanished.

"You can't be my secretary because Anko is my secretary," Ibiki explained. "Not that I gave her that duty, but she's long since usurped it, so I have to deal with it."

"I see." Iruka nodded solemnly. "That's how everyone gets duties from you, isn't it? We all have to take them."

Ibiki looked away. "Maybe."

"Well, then I take that as implicit permission to move in." Iruka's smile was predatory, and Ibiki had no idea how much of that was an act.

"I should never have gotten drunk," Ibiki said.

"Why not?" Iruka laid a hand on Ibiki's arm fondly. "It'll be a story to tell our grandchildren."

"We're not having any grandchildren," Ibiki objected. "We can't conceive. Unless you're secretly hiding female parts under that skirt, Umino."

Iruka looked offended. "Don't make me clock you."

"That's better," Ibiki said.

Iruka scolded sternly, "Your notions of gender are offensively outdated."

"Or, you're just effeminate," Ibiki retorted.

They glared at each other.

Then, visibly reclaiming his dignity, Iruka picked up the next report to proofread and started scanning it. "You're not going to get rid of me," he murmured.

Ibiki had a sinking feeling that Iruka was right about that. "I have to get back to work. As usual, if something important comes along, I have to do it myself."

"What is it?" Iruka asked. "Helping you with the things you would otherwise be dealing with alone is why I'm here."

That job description made Ibiki uncomfortable. "Well, a team went missing."

"What kind of team?" Iruka asked.

"An ANBU team," Ibiki said reluctantly. He shifted. "Look, are you really sure you have access to this stuff?"

Iruka gave him a small smile. "Most of my work for the past five years has been filing ANBU reports."

"Oh." Ibiki felt like an idiot to keep questioning the man like this.

Iruka touched his arm. "Let's look at it together. You're looking for clues, right? Because there's something you need to know that no one has been able to discover yet?"

"Yeah," Ibiki mumbled.

"Let's take turns reading it aloud," Iruka said. "Reading aloud often reveals insights one would otherwise lack. It's what I tell my students when I teach them about writing reports, so it should work here."

"Okay." Ibiki smiled ruefully. "Just read quiet. Otherwise, we'll have to kill anyone who's outside the door. And it would probably be Anko."

"I certainly would not want to cause the death of a bright young lady," Iruka said.

Ibiki snorted. "That's tactful praise."

"Concentrate," Iruka chastised.

Ibiki couldn't find it in himself to be irritated at being treated like a student again. Especially when Iruka's behavior left the man open for easy mockery. "Sorry, Sensei."

Iruka blushed.

Ibiki smirked.

**xXx**

They compiled a ten page list of notes, worked through two hand cramps – both Ibiki's – and made it through all of the available information.

Ibiki stood and stretched. "That's it. I'm through for today. I need to process everything we've learned and come back fresh in the morning. Can't do anything better than that."

Iruka nodded. "That's very wise, Morino-san." He stood as well. "Back to your place?"

Ibiki didn't miss how good Iruka was at this paperwork stuff. He didn't miss how well they worked as a professional team. But he also didn't miss Iruka's obvious attempts at flirtation, or the man's insistence on becoming attached to him for no good reason.

"You are an attractive person," Ibiki said calmly. "And I may or may not respond to that. But only a fool has sex as a way to solve his problems. I am not a fool; nor am I a child. So I don't really need to take you home to feel some kind of connection to the world, and I don't need your babysitting to keep out of trouble. What happened at the bar was a fluke. I've been on medications for so many years I've ceased to worry about what the warning labels say. That was a mistake."

Iruka took this in. "So how about a friend?"

"You can't replace –" Ibiki reacted with instinctual anger, and then stopped himself as soon as he realized what was about to come out of his mouth. "I mean –"

But it was too late. Iruka's expression became very serious. He said gently, "Morino-san, I am not here to replace your friend. But you need a friend. Surely you can see that. Only you know how much you must have relied on Hayate-san over the years, but I think it must have been a lot. He was your teammate. We all rely on our teammates in special ways, forge special bonds with them that endure over time and transform into adult relationships that see us through hard times. You are missing that now. You told me your teammates are dead. This means you're vulnerable."

"That's why," Ibiki said, carefully controlling his breathing and therefore his chakra, "I am going to see a therapist."

"You can't walk into the therapist's office tomorrow and walk out with a cure," Iruka said. "I am sure you are not that naïve. You need support as you go through a program. A series of visits."

It suddenly occurred to Ibiki that the man had been sentenced to therapy as a result of having his best friend betray him and try to kill him. _Of course he has. What was I thinking? He knows how therapy works. And he's been through the system recently. _There was no way Ibiki could smooth over how vulnerable he was right now.

"Well, caretaker seems like a crappy job," Ibiki muttered. "And it doesn't pay well. Or anything."

"I'm a teacher," Iruka said cheerfully. "I'm used to caretaking for crap pay."

Ibiki snorted, and though he suppressed a chuckle, he couldn't suppress his grin. "You really don't like teaching."

"I love it," Iruka countered. "I'm just not a sappy idealist. I'm molding our youth into little monsters that will someday surpass us and take over the world." He grinned. "And if we're lucky, we get to retire peacefully while they fight all our wars and pay all our bills. So I better do a good job."

Ibiki laughed. Then he teased, "What are you molding me into, Umino-sensei?"

"It wouldn't be manipulation if I told you," Iruka teased right back.

"Ah, so that's how it is." Ibiki gave him a look.

Iruka nodded sagely.

Ibiki turned on his heel. "You're still not coming home with me." He took advantage of the teacher's surprise and was out the door in an instant.

"Hey!" Iruka ran after him and caught up to him in the hall. "You need the company."

"You need to go home and get some sleep," Ibiki said.

"I can sleep at your place," Iruka said.

"No, you can't." Ibiki kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Why not?" Iruka asked.

"Because I said so," Ibiki said. "I'm technically your boss, since you've decided to transfer into my division, so I don't need a better reason, and you're getting on my nerves. I don't need a babysitter, and I don't need a teacher, and I don't need a caretaker. Support, I'll take. Sure. That's reasonable. But you don't need to follow me everywhere I go, and you don't need to tell me how to live my life."

"So I should back off," Iruka said softly.

"Yeah. That'd be nice."

"Dinner, then," Iruka said in a normal voice.

Ibiki resisted the urge to smack his forehead. "Did you hear what I just told you?"

"Yes," Iruka said. "I am not going to sleep at your place, nor do you need a babysitter, teacher, or caretaker. You are rejecting my offer to move into your apartment to take care of some of the things you'd rather not do, in spite of the fact that many ninjas cohabitate. Like Izumo and Kotetsu, for example. All you really want is to be left alone, to deal with your loss in your own way. However unhealthy that may be."

Ibiki gritted his teeth. "And I'm not in love with you. Don't forget that part."

"And, you're not in love with me," Iruka agreed easily. Too easily. "But you have agreed that you need a friend, and you'd be stupid to refuse a free meal. So how about it?"

"You just want to take me out to dinner because you want to act like it's a date," Ibiki said.

"Maybe," Iruka said. He smiled. "So take advantage of me."

"I heard that!" Anko yelled from down the hall.

"You didn't hear anything," Ibiki called back. "It's not how it sounds."

"Awww…"

Iruka chuckled. "Is she always like this?"

"Every day," Ibiki said. "It'll stop being amusing soon. It's only the new recruits that laugh at her."

"With her," Iruka corrected.

"Whatever."

"So, dinner?" Iruka asked.

"I have perfectly good food at home."

"Like what?" Iruka asked. "Instant noodles?"

Ibiki glanced at him. "You don't need to scoff. Food is food, Umino."

"How like a certain one of my students you are," Iruka said fondly. "If you want, I'll treat you to Ichiraku's."

Ibiki flushed, and annoyingly, his face felt pretty hot. "I'm not going to bother with ramen if you're buying dinner. Take me to someplace special."

"Fine, then," Iruka said.

"Good. If I'm going to take advantage of you, don't be cheap."

To Ibiki's frustration, Iruka grinned instead of becoming annoyed.

Anko met them around the corner. "Now, I know I heard that."

"You heard two gentlemen discussing what to have for dinner, Mitarashi-san," Iruka said, walking past her blithely.

Ibiki was amused at the teacher's aplomb. "Right. Two gentlemen not involved in a homosexual relationship, because that would be silly."

Iruka cast him an incredulous glance.

Anko looked equally incredulous. She hurried to catch up to them and walked alongside Ibiki. "Silly? Is that what you'd call it? What about 'hot', or 'steamy'?"

"I reserve those adjectives for food, Anko," Ibiki said.

Anko frowned at them. Then she grinned. "I don't know, I think Iruka looks pretty tasty." She glanced around Ibiki at the teacher.

"No cannibalism," Ibiki chided.

"Oh, I won't eat all of him," Anko said. "Just a certain part."

Iruka flushed red. "My fingers?" he asked, in what seemed to Ibiki like a desperate grab for denial.

"Your fingers?" Anko was thrown off her game. Then she gave Iruka a sweet smile. "Sure, baby. If that's what you like."

"If that's what I –" Iruka couldn't pretend anymore. Even his ears had turned bright red.

Ibiki took pity on him. "As amusing as this is, the answer is still no."

"Aww." Anko pouted. "You're getting more possessive than I thought. The teacher do something today to win you over?"

"He's an instructor, not a teacher, Anko." They reached the elevator at the end of the hallway. Ibiki punched the button. "And I'm not possessive. I'm protective. Just the same way I would be if any of my employees got in over their heads with you."

"Employees?" Anko raised her eyebrows.

Ibiki grinned. "As of today. Umino Iruka is now one of us."

The elevator arrived and the doors opened.

Anko hugged Iruka before he could make it in and latched onto him.

Iruka stumbled into the elevator with her attached, too flustered to make any other move.

Anko petted his head. "I like you, Iruru. I'm glad we'll get to see more of each other." She nuzzled his cheek.

"Help?" Iruka suggested, looking to Ibiki.

Ibiki chuckled. "Let her have her way. She's harmless enough." His gaze flicked to Anko. "Let go of him when he needs to exit the elevator, okay, Anko?"

Anko squeezed Iruka and pouted. "Then make the elevator go slower. Four floors isn't enough."

By the time they reached the ground floor, Iruka had more or less adjusted to being snuggled like a giant, walking teddy bear. Anko kissed his check and jumped off of him when the elevator doors opened, exiting first.

"Night Biki! Night Ruru! I'm gonna go home and watch a movie," Anko called. She blew each of them a kiss and was gone in a flash.

Iruka was sufficiently dazed that Ibiki had to take the teacher's arm and pull him out of the elevator before the elevator closed the doors again and made its descent. After the rescue, Iruka gingerly started walking on his own.

Ibiki grinned. "Everyone looks like that after the first time."

"The first time?"

"The first time they experience one of Anko's snuggle attacks."

Iruka gaped. "She does that to everyone?"

"No," Ibiki said. He matter-of-factly flashed his ID when they reached the security checkpoint and waved Iruka through. "Just the people she likes."

"People she likes?" Iruka followed him to the door.

"Yeah." Ibiki held open the door, and Iruka walked through.

Iruka looked at the interrogator over his shoulder. "But she never met me before today. How does she know who she likes?"

"Ask Anko," Ibiki said.

Iruka nodded slowly, that glazed look still in his eyes.

"Now, where are we going?" Ibiki asked.

"What? Oh." Iruka looked around blankly, down both sides of street.

"You said you'd take me someplace nice," Ibiki said. "So you can pretend it's a date, and I can get a free meal."

"Right…" Iruka nodded. "Well, then we'll go this way." He started down the street. "I think this is the quickest way to the grill."

"You're taking me out for yakiniku?" Ibiki asked.

"No," Iruka said. "I'm taking you to Suikaku. You like fish, right?"

"Sure," Ibiki said.

"Suikaku is kind of like a steakhouse," Iruka explained. "It specializes in fish."

Ibiki's stomach rumbled. He thought that said it all. "Is it crowded, usually?"

"No," Iruka said. "Not unless it's the weekend." He glanced at Ibiki and answered the unasked question. "I go there when I want to enjoy a nice, quiet meal alone that I didn't have to cook. It's also my treat for myself when I have a particularly rough schedule to get through." He made a face. "Like grading ninety student papers in one day."

"Ninety?" Ibiki was surprised. "You can get that many?"

"Not often," Iruka said. "Not that I would like to. But it happens, sometimes. And then I have to buckle down and spend the whole day churning out grades." He grinned. "I'm glad that'll be over now. Let the green chunin handle it. It'll give them battle experience."

Ibiki chuckled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Ibiki was soothed by the interior of the restaurant. The lighting was dim and syrupy, like liquid gold seeping over everything. There was lots of dark, rustic wood, including exposed beams, and there were minimal, tasteful sumi ink paintings of traditional subjects, like flowers. The tables were all spaced fairly well apart, sequestered in their own veil of paper screens, giving the illusion of lots of separate rooms. The booths were each lit by a hanging light attached to the high ceiling, and the lampshades were white paper lanterns.

"You weren't kidding," Ibiki murmured. "This really is a nice place."

Iruka nodded. "Mm-hmm." Then he shot Ibiki a mischievous smile. "I'll even buy you dessert."

Ibiki snorted. "I'm not a girl."

"So only girls enjoy dessert?" Iruka looked mildly offended.

"Yes," Ibiki said. "I don't like sweet things. I'm a man."

"Oh, is that what you've got against me," Iruka murmured, his eyes half-lidded. "I'm sweet."

Ibiki rolled his eyes. "Don't kid yourself. You're a pushy son of a bitch."

Iruka smiled. "Thank you, Morino-san." He talked to the hostess at the front podium and got them a table in the empty part of the restaurant with a mixture of easy charm and gratitude.

Then he smiled brightly at Ibiki and motioned for the interrogator to follow.

Ibiki was impressed by Iruka's people skills. He followed along after the hostess and Iruka, and allowed himself to be seated at a roomy booth with a comfortable bench seat covered in maroon vinyl.

The hostess politely left them a pair of menus and glided off.

Ibiki watched her go for a moment before turning his attention to the menu. "So what've they got here?"

"Look for yourself," Iruka said lightly. "And don't forget to look at the dessert section."

"Don't push it." Ibiki opened the menu and hid behind it.

Iruka laughed.

"You should be glad I let you bring me here at all," Ibiki muttered.

"I know. I'm lucky to have you here." Ibiki couldn't tell from Iruka's tone whether or not the teacher was serious.

Ibiki cleared his throat. "Yes, well, this is where I say something nice back, but I'm fresh out. You're stubborn, pushy, argumentative, and you think you know better than me."

"Coming from you, all high compliments." Iruka lowered the menu in order to grin winningly at him.

Ibiki sighed.

"Oh!" Iruka's eyes widened. "Order whatever you want. Please don't worry about the price. It matters more to me that you get something you like."

Ibiki dragged his gaze away from the price column, feeling annoyed that Iruka somehow behaved as though the teacher had x-ray vision. "Shut up. I'm not a little kid."

"Then you'll know it's bad form to worry about the price of a first date," Iruka retorted.

Ibiki only had one response for that. "Hmph."

The hostess came back with hot tea and ice water. Ibiki ended up ordering a halibut steak with steamed rice and vegetables. He'd never had a halibut steak before. Iruka ordered lobster and a side of vegetable yakisoba, and requested a light white wine. Ibiki passed on the alcohol, preferring not to get drunk and spill his guts.

The hostess retrieved their menus and left with their order.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Iruka asked.

Ibiki raised an eyebrow. "Mind what?"

"That I drink," Iruka said.

"Don't be a baby," Ibiki said. "Of course I don't mind."

Iruka smiled, looking relieved. "Thank you, Morino-san. For a moment I thought it had been bad form to request wine with dinner."

"Not at all," Ibiki said mildly. He was disconcerted by the constant balancing act of the different parts of Iruka's personality. _Fiery one minute, apologetic the next. Well, he certainly is entertaining, I'll give him that._

"About my transfer…" Iruka trailed off.

"We'll get it taken care of first thing in the morning," Ibiki said. "We'll go to her office and ask in person. That way it's sure to get expedited. You know how she hates paperwork."

Iruka smiled ruefully. "Yes. She's even worse at it than Sandaime was, and that's saying something. I have never met a man with a worse aversion to paperwork…except maybe the Sannin Jiraiya!" Iruka shook his head. "That man delayed so long on his taxes that he almost committed fraud, and all he had to say was, 'Oops. I'm sorry. You'll clear this up for me, won't you, Iruka?'" He sighed.

Ibiki could just see that. Jiraiya always acted as if everyone was his best friend. Sometimes it was endearing, sometimes it was annoying…and sometimes, it got him beaten up. But he couldn't deny how much Jiraiya had done for their village, for their country, and that made all the difference. That was why, no matter how Hatake Kakashi pushed his buttons, he would never respond by snapping the man's neck. The man was a hero, even if he was annoying to deal with.

He stirred his ice water with the straw and took a drink. "So, did you?" he asked innocently.

"Sandaime told me to," Iruka said, sounding defeated.

Ibiki snorted.

"Don't laugh." Iruka made a face. "It took me three months to do Jiraiya-sama's taxes. He was fifteen years behind."

"And you sorted it out in three months?" Ibiki's eyebrows rose. "You are The Paperwork Ninja."

"I told him he had to file every year, and he said, 'What? I thought that was optional.'" Iruka threw up his hands. "Who thinks filing their taxes is optional?"

Ibiki had to laugh at that.

Iruka smiled after a moment and drank his tea. "I guess it is pretty funny, overall. Jiraiya-sama's antics can be amusing. You know who filed his taxes every year before he started traveling the world?"

Ibiki shook his head.

"Orochimaru," Iruka said. "Now that's irony. They don't get along, but Jiraiya asks him for help on his taxes."

"That's what teammates are for, I guess," Ibiki said. "Even if you hate them, they've got different skills than you do, so you have someone to rely on if things go wrong."

Iruka was silent for a few moments. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Ibiki was startled. "Don't be. What'd I say?"

Iruka shook his head. "It was something I said. I shouldn't have said it. It was thoughtless."

Ibiki realized Iruka thought the subject of teammates was delicate, given what he'd talked about when he had been under the influence of medication and alcohol. "Look, Umino…I'm not that sensitive guy you thought you saw last night. I'm just not. That wasn't really me."

"Whatever you say, Morino-san," Iruka murmured.

Ibiki was mildly frustrated the teacher didn't believe him, but he didn't know how to make headway on the topic.

The food came. Ibiki had to admit it looked good. He broke his chopsticks apart and started in on his halibut steak. "Mm. It's good."

"Good," Iruka said. "I'm glad you like it. If you hadn't, I would have suggested you order something else."

"Generous of you," Ibiki observed.

They ate for a few minutes in silence.

"Let's discuss us," Iruka suggested.

"There is no 'us'," Ibiki said, exasperated. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"There isn't?" Iruka tilted his head. "We're sitting at a table together, eating dinner together. There must be some kind of 'us', or I wouldn't be here."

"Look, it's not that I don't like you," Ibiki said. "I don't have anything against you. It's just that – Well, the fact is, I don't need a…a…" He ate a piece of steamed broccoli and shook his head.

"Are we going to keep having this conversation?" Iruka asked. He looked mildly amused.

"What?" Ibiki was flustered by Iruka's expression.

Iruka folded his hands under his chin, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. "Morino-san, you seem very content to tell me what you don't need, or don't want. But I have yet to hear a word pass your lips about what you do want, or do need. I'm willing to be whatever you want me to be. But you have to give me some direction. Otherwise, I'm always going to be that blundering, pushy teacher you don't want to see."

Ibiki opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts. "You leaving is not an option, then."

Iruka gave him a kind look. "You don't really want me to leave, do you, Morino-san?"

It was like Iruka was looking right through him. People didn't do that to him. In the face of that kind, knowing look, Ibiki didn't know what to do. _He saw me at my worst,_ Ibiki belatedly recalled. _He can see through me. And he has access to all of my files in case he's ever in doubt._ It was so hard to grasp that someone had cracked his shell, and he was still alive. He'd always thought the only way his privacy could be breached was through torture, and he could never allow that to happen.

Iruka had handled him with both pressure and gentleness, like deft fingers defusing a bomb.

Ibiki's heartbeat sped up.

"So what is it you like about me?" Ibiki asked casually.

They resumed eating while they talked.

"I'm attracted to the wounded ones," Iruka said. He gave Ibiki an ironic, self-deprecating smile.

Ibiki raised an eyebrow.

"The ones that need fixing, the ones that need support," Iruka said. "I'm afraid I'm hardwired to want to help, and nothing is going to dissuade me from giving assistance until I think they're fully healed. It's true with children, and it's true with you." He snorted softly. "Someone once called it Wounded Bird Syndrome."

"Someone?" Ibiki asked.

Iruka's expression soured slightly. "Kakashi."

"Oh." Ibiki stirred his tea, averting his gaze to it. "He's an asshole to everyone, it seems."

"Why? What would you call it?" Iruka asked.

"You're attracted to people like you," Ibiki said. "You can't help it. People who have lost their parents, especially. Hatake, Sasuke, Naruto…"

Iruka flushed, looking a little mortified. "Is it that obvious?"

Ibiki gave him a look. "I'm an interrogator."

Iruka didn't react.

"So no," Ibiki clarified. "It's not."

The tension went out of Iruka's body, but he looked away. "I'm not very good at fixing people, am I? My record speaks for itself."

"I don't know, I think you did a good job with Naruto," Ibiki said.

Iruka looked at him in astonishment.

Ibiki grinned. "He sure was fiery when he took my test. He just about ruined it – calling me out in front of all the other students, saying he didn't care what the consequences were, he wasn't going to give up." He still got amused every time he thought of it. "Thanks to Uzumaki, we ended up with double the usual number of semi-finalists."

Iruka blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "He's always been…determined."

"But it's hard to be determined without anyone to believe in you," Ibiki said. "You are that person to him. The one who believes in him."

Iruka looked at him with obvious hope. "You really think so? You think I made a difference?"

"I know so," Ibiki said.

Iruka picked at his dinner.

Ibiki waited. He could sense a question in the wings.

Finally, Iruka said, "Why are you trying to get rid of me?"

"It's for your own good," Ibiki said. "I can't offer you anything, so I want you to go away before you hurt yourself." He was curious at the expression that appeared on Iruka's face. He couldn't read it. "I'm no good for a guy like you. You need someone who cares – like you do about other people. You keep failing to reform people because we're all self-centered losers. Look for someone like Naruto: someone willing to change. Okay? That's the best advice I can give you."

"Why do you think you don't have anything to offer?" Iruka asked quietly.

Ibiki stared at the teacher for a moment. Then he sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Look, you know why. You don't need to make me say it."

"No, I don't know why." Iruka's voice was low and measured. He looked into Ibiki's eyes. "You're going to have to say it."

"Damn it, Umino." Ibiki looked away. _Do you think I can just confide in you? We barely know each other. Sure, I spilled my guts when I was drunk off my ass, but so would anybody. _

Silence fell over the table.

Iruka sipped his tea.

Ibiki ate a bite of fish.

He tried to think of a way to say what he needed to say without revealing messy personal information. "We're just not compatible people."

Iruka snorted. "That's all? That's all you have to say?"

"Think for a minute instead of opening your mouth and chastising me, teacher," Ibiki said. "Think about who we are. Professionally. You're the sweet, nurturing teacher who forgives and dries everyone's tears. I'm the head of the place people go when they've been bad. I'm like the devil in this town."

Iruka sighed. "I know you have a difficult job, but I also know that you're fair, and there's more to life than jobs –"

"You don't know," Ibiki said.

Iruka stopped and clenched his jaw. "Go on, then."

Ibiki gestured. "What do you think of when you think of me? I've tried to mold my image as much as possible, to make you think a certain way. If you don't think I'm scary, if you don't think I'm underhanded and sadistic, and I would do whatever I had to in order to get a conviction. If you don't think I would break every bone in your body if I thought I needed you to confess your sins, both real and imaginary…" He took a sip. "Then all I can say is that you are equal parts stubborn and stupid."

"Reputations can be false no matter what they are," Iruka said. "And I do too much yelling for my students to think I'm full of sweetness and light."

"But what do you think it takes to make a reputation like mine?" Ibiki pressed.

"Tell me." Iruka folded his hands under his chin and rested his elbows on the table, looking at Ibiki steadily. "You're supposed to be telling me."

"It takes more than bluffing," Ibiki said. "That's for sure. Bluffing can get you a small way, but in the end, you have to sacrifice something real."

"What are you saying?" Iruka whispered.

"I traded a lot to become what Konoha needed." Ibiki pushed away plate. "I traded away all the parts that you need." He stood. "Thanks for the food. I better be getting home."

Iruka stood up, blocking his way.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ibiki asked.

"Everyone gets damaged by what we do," Iruka said. "We're shinobi. Your pain is not unique. And I certainly can understand your feelings of being worn down into something less than human. Although Sandaime was a kind man, he was the same as all other men in power. Ultimately, his job was to make us tools in order to protect more precious people. We never speak of them, and we rarely mingle, but we do everything we do to protect one rich family that rules our country, and all of his citizens. We're not citizens in the same way civilians are. Instead, we're singled out to be dehumanized and used up. We are like firewood in the flames of war."

He closed the gap between them and gripped Ibiki's arms, their chests touching. "We can take back our humanity with each other, Ibiki. And your name is Ibiki. It's Morino Ibiki. You're just a man. Not a devil, and not a tool. A man." His hands tightened on Ibiki's arms, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Just like me."

Ibiki was held immobile. He couldn't move. Couldn't speak. All he could see was the last glance he'd had of his brother's face. He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I failed."

Iruka looked at him with wide eyes, such vulnerable eyes.

He looked at Iruka pleadingly. One the words started, he didn't think he could stop them. "I failed at being someone's protector. They all died. Dying…isn't what I'm going for. I traded everything I had to be…some use, to someone. I have to be this way. I have to protect someone somehow. It didn't work out for me as a goodguy. So I'm not a good guy anymore. I'm a badguy who works for the right side. I can't change. This is what I'm good at. It's the only thing I've got left."

Iruka's expression became something akin to angry as he spoke. When he finished, Iruka said softly, "You think you have to change, for me to love you? You think you have to give up what you do and who you are, to please me? I'm not that naïve. I know who you are, Ibiki. You don't scare me."

Ibiki bowed his head, his shoulders slumping. He didn't want to say it, but it was all he had left. "I don't save people. I hurt them." He could barely get out the whisper. "I couldn't even save my brother."

Iruka hugged him tightly.

Somehow, Ibiki choked out the words. "Let me go."

"No."

If Iruka let go, he thought he would fall to his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm such a failure."

"You're not okay," Iruka said gently, firmly. "I'm going to take care of you. There's nothing you can do to make me change my mind."

They stayed that way for a good five minutes before Ibiki felt capable of moving. He slowly stepped back and sank back down onto the bench seat where he'd been sitting. Iruka reluctantly let him go.

Ibiki sat with his head down, his elbows propped on the table on either side of his plate, his hands interlaced, resting against his mouth.

Iruka sat down as well, allowing the silence to continue.

"I'm sorry," Ibiki whispered finally.

Iruka shook his head. "Don't be."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

They ate dinner in silence. Ibiki had a feeling that Iruka was letting him have some space rather than it being that Iruka had nothing to say. The man always seemed to have something to say.

"That was good," Ibiki said when he finished his dinner. He wiped his mouth on a napkin. "Thank you."

He desperately wanted Iruka to forget everything he'd said about his brother, about not being able to save people. He didn't know what he had to do in order to achieve that – other than calling in a favor with Yamanaka Inoichi and wiping Iruka's memory. But that might be going a little far, even for someone as obsessed with his privacy as he was.

No, he figured the first logical step was to act as normal as possible.

"I'm glad." Iruka gave him a smile and then hefted the menu. "Would you like dessert?"

"Sure," Ibiki said. He figured it couldn't hurt to be amiable.

Iruka looked comically surprised for a moment, and then grinned. "Pick anything you want. They have a lot of traditional desserts here. I'm sure you'll find something you like."

Ibiki raised an eyebrow and dubiously flipped to the back of his menu. There was an impressive array of desserts at this restaurant. _Heh. Probably why the teacher likes it so much._ "What do you usually get?" Ibiki asked casually.

Iruka flushed. "Well, I'm not very traditional, so I usually get the cheesecake. But I like taiyaki, too. It's my second favorite next to cheesecake or flan."

"Cheesecake, huh?" Ibiki lowered his menu and glanced at the man.

Iruka met his eyes for a split second and then looked away with a nervous laugh.

"Why does that embarrass you?" Ibiki asked.

"Nothing," Iruka muttered.

"What?" Ibiki pretended he hadn't heard.

Iruka raised his voice slightly. "Nothing." His gaze was pulled back to Ibiki. He looked distinctly unhappy. "I'm not – It's just a stupid joke."

Ibiki wondered if there was more to that sentence. He waited.

Iruka sighed. "Someone told a stupid joke once about me and cheesecake."

Ibiki narrowed his eyes at the man. "Are you recovering from a previous relationship?"

"What?" Iruka straightened, his blush fading rapidly. "No."

_That would be yes,_ Ibiki thought, studying the teacher. "How long did it last?"

"Look –" Iruka stopped himself and glanced away, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table. "Only a few weeks. It's not – It's not like it was any big thing."

_So you were invested. _"Who?" Ibiki asked.

"An old friend," Iruka said shortly.

Ibiki was struck by that response. He recalled Iruka's answer when he had said the same thing yesterday afternoon. _God, was it really just last night that everything happened? _That seemed impossible. But time had a way of distorting in the human consciousness.

He shook himself and called up a wry smile. "Sounds like a bad friend."

"Yeah, well, he's certainly not the best," Iruka said. He took a long drink of his ice water. "But he's not the sort of person who's able to help it. It's a defense mechanism to make fun of everyone else around him. He said if I didn't like it we'd never be able to make it work –" Iruka stuttered to a halt, looking horrified. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

"What?" Ibiki furrowed his brow, confused.

"You're trying to recover from all the losses in your life, and here I am letting you draw me into a conversation about my ex," Iruka said. He fiddled with the straw in his ice water. "You are really work oriented, aren't you, Ibiki? It's hard for you to stop, even when you need to take a break."

"If you don't tell me, I'll find out from someone else," Ibiki said matter-of-factly, side stepping Iruka's observation about him. He really didn't want to have to face that right now. Work made him feel better, and acting like this was work made him feel better, and he wasn't going to give it up just because it was socially inappropriate.

Iruka, surprisingly, looked amused and slightly smug. "No," he said. "You won't."

"Why not?" Ibiki drew himself up. He couldn't help reacting as though the teacher's statement was an insult against his skill as an interrogator.

"Because no one else knows," Iruka said.

Ibiki gave him a steady stare, somewhat mollified by this explanation. At the same time, it was disappointingly foolish. "Someone always knows."

Iruka shook his head. "Not when you're dating someone whose name ought to be Stealth."

"What is his name?" Ibiki asked.

Iruka, apparently, knew when to give up. His expression went flat, and he said calmly and clearly, "Hatake Kakashi."

Ibiki raised his eyebrows.

Iruka seemed to take that as a demand for an explanation. "Naruto was gone, and we were both upset about it. Kakashi was lamenting not being able to talk to Naruto properly before Jiraiya took him away, I was lamenting because I didn't get to see my favorite student every day, I was worried, he was worried. We consoled each other. He was just recovering from his encounter with Itachi. He was vulnerable. He needed me. Or so I thought." Iruka's expression dropped twenty degrees in temperature, definitely down into the Not Amused category.

Ibiki rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands under his chin, his usual posture when thinking. "So, your Wounded Bird Syndrome, as he deemed it."

Iruka made no response. He just sat there, looking like an annoyed cat. Ibiki could easily visualize the thrashing tail that ought to go along with such an expression.

"Sounds like he blew up at you," Ibiki commented. "Hated the concern, wanted to chase you away to prove he'd recovered from the attack. Tsukiyomi, wasn't it? I heard that's deadly. He's lucky to have survived." He added, "Oh, and it is luck. I've been assured that strength of character has very little to do with it. Stronger men than Hatake have died when faced with such a mental attack. So he's lucky, and knows it, and resents it, and he kicked you to the curb to prove that he's still healthy."

"Isn't that what you're trying to do to me?" Iruka said wryly.

"Why do you think I know what he's doing?" Ibiki countered.

Iruka almost smiled. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards for a moment. Then his expression turned definitely sad. "Is this the end, too?" he asked softly. "After dessert, are you going to 'kick me to the curb', as you put it?"

There was something so terrible, so lonely, about that question, that Ibiki infinitely understood it. His chest ached from it. "I'm not as stupid as he is. I'm done trying to prove myself. You can take care of me all you want, Iruka." In spite of all his resistance, he had to hope that using the teacher's first name would sufficiently convince the man he was telling the truth.

Iruka looked like he was going to cry. For a moment, Ibiki thought that he actually would. Then the brightness in his eyes faded, and he took a deep breath. "Thank you. I know this is a favor, coming from you. You don't like people, really, do you?"

Ibiki cleared his throat and looked away. "It's not that I…Well, I get used to viewing you all as criminals. Or criminals in the making, anyway. I keep thinking I'll have to interrogate you for a crime some day, and it makes me a little…less than hospitable."

Iruka smiled. "I can understand that. In my teaching job, I get to the point where I'm just looking for troublemakers to punish sometimes because I get so frustrated with the lot of them."

Ibiki chuckled. "Do you were catch any?"

"Invariably," Iruka said. He grinned. "I told you I wasn't all sweetness and light."

Ibiki raised his hands. "I would never say such a thing."

Iruka laughed.

Ibiki felt an odd flash of pride in his chest that he had managed to get the teacher to make that noise. A noise of happiness instead of sadness or fear.

The waitress chose this moment to come by and ask them if everything was to their liking, and collect their dinner dishes. She refilled Iruka's ice water, brought more tea, and took their order for dessert.

"Lemon cheesecake," Iruka said, and then gave Ibiki a dazzling smile. "And for you, Morino-san?"

Ibiki was relieved that Iruka had referred to him formally in front of the waitress. "Uirou-mochi for me, thanks. Just the chestnut flavored. Not the variety sampler."

The waitress bowed and took their menus, then departed to convey their order to the kitchen.

Iruka made a face. "Uirou?"

"Of course," Ibiki said, giving the teacher an innocent look. "You didn't think I'd order something sweet, did you? I told you I don't like sweet things." Uirou, or uirou-mochi, was a chewy, steamed cake made of rice flour that was only subtly sweet.

Iruka looked as though he could taste the chestnut uirou just at the mention of it, and he was deeply unhappy.

Ibiki chuckled. "You're just like my brother. He hates uirou-mochi, too. His favorite is crisp yatsuhashi." Yatsuhashi baked until crisp was a thin, sweet rice wafer sprinkled with cinnamon. It was like a cookie. Far too much like a cookie for Ibiki's taste.

Iruka smiled broadly. "Mmm…yatsuhashi."

Ibiki rolled his eyes. "The two of you would probably be great friends." It was far better to think of Idate as the kid brother instead of the man now living in Tea Country. That boy still existed, at least in Ibiki's mind. He was separate from all the pain Ibiki felt.

"I'll be friends with anyone who has great taste in desserts," Iruka said, probably joking.

"Aw…and I was so hoping we could be friends," Ibiki said, smirking.

"I was hoping we could be more," Iruka replied.

"About that…" Ibiki shifted awkwardly.

"You're not gay," Iruka said.

Ibiki rolled his eyes. "Stop guessing. You're bad at it."

"Then you are gay," Iruka said.

Ibiki resisted the urge to smack his forehead. "Look, what did I just say? Shut up for a minute and listen to me."

He could see the temptation to keep on going cross the teacher's face. Blessedly, the man chose to be silent.

Ibiki gathered himself. "My sexuality is not the point of this discussion. Nor is your objective attractiveness. The fact is that I am not sexually active, and do not expect to be. So it is that I set you down as gently as possible when I say: It's me. Not you."

"Oh," Iruka said, in a certain tone of voice that caused a shiver down Ibiki's arms. It was a tone of understanding. Tones of understanding made him nervous.

"Oh?" Ibiki said, raising his eyebrows.

Iruka nodded. "You mean that I…presented myself to you as someone who had needs, sexual needs, and I wanted you to fulfill them."

"Well, yes." Ibiki watched him warily.

Iruka shrugged. "It's true that I do, and so does anyone else, and if you don't want to have sex with me that's fine."

Ibiki frowned at the way that Iruka had that response down pat. _Wounded birds, remember? He said he deals with wounded people. And he meant it psychologically. Psychologically wounded people do not often want to have sex. _

Then, something that threatened to freeze his blood: _Does Iruka think I've been raped?_

He had been, but he considered that an afterthought under all of the scars and abandonment issues and torment at not being able to protect those he loved. In his mind, he kept that act purely physical, something that had touched his body like a hot iron or a sword. And in that way, he was healed and had been a long time ago. It didn't warrant any further investigation.

But Iruka…Iruka would think it was a big deal. Iruka could have access to that information in his file – the medical ninjas had recorded everything – and Iruka could think he was refusing to have sex because he had been raped.

Which was ridiculous. He had not refused out of some misguided rape-related fear or trauma.

Ibiki stared Iruka down. "Really? You're okay with that?"

"Uh-huh." Iruka nodded.

"Because you're a twenty-three year old man, and you've clearly got sexual urges, and you've already kissed me once this morning," Ibiki said. "And if you don't mind me saying so, that kiss was dynamite, so you clearly have sexual tension issues going on. And I don't want to be the cause of any trouble."

"It's fine," Iruka said softly.

And somehow Ibiki knew this conversation was over. "So you dated Kakashi, huh?"

Iruka's mouth twisted in a reaction of surprise and distaste.

At that moment, the waitress came by with their desserts.

"Oh, lovely." Iruka gave the waitress a grateful smile. "Thank you." His slice of lemon cheesecake came on a little plate, resting on a snowy white doily. Beside the slice of cheesecake was a ridiculously tiny fork.

Ibiki was glad of his sensible choice: three rectangular uirou cakes, white and perfect, resting on a black plate to bring out the contrast. "Looks good. Thank you."

The waitress bowed and retreated.

Ibiki used one of the toothpick-sized sticks provided to spear his first chewy little cake and bite into it. "So you were going to tell me about Kakashi."

Iruka made a face. "If you insist."

Ibiki chuckled. "I do."

"Let me fortify myself with cheesecake first." Iruka sliced into his cheesecake and took a bite.

Ibiki waited patiently, smiling. He was amused, but under the amusement ran a current of concern that Iruka had been wounded by the infamous Copy Ninja.

"Sometimes I think the only person who could ever really stand Kakashi for very long is Gai," Iruka said. "That's just because Gai is so stubborn." The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "As stubborn as Kakashi."

"You're pretty stubborn yourself," Ibiki said. He gestured with his speared rice cake.

"Only in short bursts," Iruka said. "Gai is stubborn all the time. He never quits. It's like his Ninja Way or something. 'Never give up. Even when I should'."

Ibiki snorted. "You think he notices when to give up and just plows through anyway?"

"I'm pretty sure," Iruka said.

Ibiki shook his head. "Well, then he's welcome to the Copy Nin, if he feels like being stubborn for a lifetime." He finished his first cake and stabbed the toothpick into his second. He wasn't a dainty eater; he had no interest in picking at his dessert like Iruka was.

"Oh, I'm not sure they're sexually involved," Iruka said. "I just think Gai is the only person who could stand to be."

Ibiki chuckled. "This is where I say I think I'm lucky, and I'm glad that you didn't have the stuff to hack it out with the Copy Ninja, because then I wouldn't get you…but…"

"Yes?" Iruka raised an eyebrow.

"But that is way too sappy for me to ever think about saying, so this is all you're going to get." He ate his last uirou-mochi in one bite and gave Iruka broad grin.

Iruka laughed. "You are impossible, aren't you, Ibiki?"

"Maybe," Ibiki said.

"Would you say sappy things if I was a girl?" Iruka teased.

Ibiki retorted, "You are a girl."

Iruka stuck his tongue out at the interrogator.

"Just what a girl would do," Ibiki said solemnly. "You are proving my point."

Iruka shot him an annoyed look, then shook his head and ate a bite of cheesecake. "You are the most sexist man I think I've ever met."

"Then you haven't met many," Ibiki said. "I know I'm like a three on the sexism scale. I'd hate to see you face a five or a six."

"What constitutes a five or a six?" Iruka asked, looking bewildered.

"Someone who thinks rape's not a crime," Ibiki said.

Iruka's jaw dropped.

"Now, I'm not taking about someone who would actually do it," Ibiki said. "Just someone who thinks it's not a crime."

"Who –" Iruka couldn't get any further. He was choking.

"You'd be surprised," Ibiki said darkly. "I meet a lot of shitty people in my line of work."

"I'll say." Iruka still looked horrified, but at least he could swallow again.

"An eight or a nine is a person who would actually do it," Ibiki said.

"I'm afraid to ask what ten is," Iruka said.

"A ten is someone who commits serial murders," Ibiki said. "Their loathing of the opposite sex cannot be expressed except to maim and murder."

"And you…developed this scale yourself?" Iruka asked, seeming queasy.

"Had to." Ibiki shrugged. "There aren't that many tools available to us as interrogators. We needed to develop an easy internal language for our reports, so that we could get the point across quickly. Interrogating is a very time sensitive business."

Iruka absorbed this and nodded slowly. "I see your point. It would be important to get across as much information as quickly as possible when our people are in danger."

"That's why it's important that I do this work," Ibiki said.

Iruka shook his head. "I am not going to stop you." He took another bite of cheesecake. "I was serious when I said I wouldn't change you. I just want to help you." He gestured with his dessert fork. "I want to help you achieve the life you want to have. If it's being the top interrogator and the Head of T&I, then I'm going to help you. Like with your paperwork. If I increase your efficiency, you can do your work better, can't you? The T&I Division will run like a well-oiled machine when I'm done with it, and I'll stay on to maintain it with you."

Ibiki was touched. Curious, confused, and a little apprehensive, but touched. The idea of a person by his side whom he could trust was appealing. He'd never let anybody in before. Especially not since he became the Head of T&I. Security was so important to what he did. It was literally a godsend to have someone with his same level of security clearance volunteering for paperwork duty.

"You would pick up and change everything…just for me?" Ibiki asked.

"I love you," Iruka said mildly.

That concept sat heavily in Ibiki's stomach. He began to think Iruka was serious about the love part. Only a person who loved him would change so much about their life to help him. Give up so much…threaten to give up their humanity by transferring into T&I. Even a paperwork position was too much exposure to stay protected in a cocoon of humanism.

"Ah…is there a certain response I'm required to give?" Ibiki asked. He looked down at his plate self-consciously, and then raised his gaze back up to Iruka's face.

"No." Iruka shook his head cheerfully. "Just let me go home with you tonight, and that'll be answer enough."

Ibiki breathed in, thought for a moment, and then let his breath go, exhaling, allowing his shoulders to drop. "Okay."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Rated M from here on out.  
**

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Ibiki opened the door to his apartment and let Iruka in, then sighed and shut the door, locking it and dropping the key into his coat pocket. He didn't do the whole toss the keys on the kitchen counter thing. That was terrible security.

He walked with Iruka as far as the living room and stopped.

"So, are you going to sleep on the couch, or are you going to somehow worm your way into my bedroom like you did last night?" Ibiki asked.

"You need to talk about your brother," Iruka said.

"I'm not sure what that has to do with my question," Ibiki said mildly.

"Your friend dies, and you perceive this as some failure on your part because you're already predisposed to think of yourself as a failure," Iruka said. "Why? Because you couldn't save your own brother. That's also why you won't just agree to date me, like we are going to do anyway because I won't give in and won't let go and you want me here, really want me here in spite of the way you've been behaving, and you need me here, and –"

Ibiki held up his hands. "Enough with the verbal pummeling. I wish you would just punch me like a normal guy."

Iruka glared at him. "Punches wouldn't knock you out like words would."

"Which, I believe, is why I said I would prefer punches," Ibiki said.

"Well, too bad," Iruka retorted.

"You want me to talk about my brother," Ibiki said, taking Iruka's determination in warily.

"Yes," Iruka said with a nod, still glaring.

"How?" Ibiki asked.

"What?"

"Which way? About what? What about my brother?" Ibiki asked.

Iruka deflated slightly. "You really don't know. Do you?"

Ibiki shrugged and looked away.

Iruka sighed and crossed the space between them, placing his hands on Ibiki's arms. "You need to tell me what happened, and why you think it should be your fault."

"I will never tell anyone what happened," Ibiki said softly, lifting his gaze and staring at the wall. "No one will ever know what happened but he and I. Check the records room if you don't think that's true. I'll never tell. They tried to get me to tell when I was recovered from the scene, and I said nothing. Amegakure can't break me. You're not going to, either."

"Then talk to me as if I were your brother," Iruka said, stroking Ibiki's arms lightly. "Forget about explaining what happened and making the details clear. Just tell me the important part: How you feel. Why you think it's your fault. Tell me as if you were telling him. You haven't spoken to him about this, have you?"

Ibiki shook his head. "I have not."

"Then tell 'him' now," Iruka said. "Tell me. Get some of this poison, this poisonous memory, off your chest. I know you have things you would like to say to him. Even though you feel like it would do no good, trust me when I say it would put your thoughts in order and help you process better if you said these things out loud, to somebody."

"How do you know?" Ibiki's chest felt tight. His throat constricted in kind. "How do you know it will help any, even if he's not here?"

"I did the same thing about Mizuki's betrayal," Iruka said. "I said all the things I wanted to say, regardless of whether he was here or not, and I felt a lot better. I got to say it, to somebody. Talking helps. Getting it out helps."

Ibiki cleared his throat and sighed. "And you want me to pretend that you are my brother."

Iruka nodded. "If you can. I know it sounds awkward, but once you get the hang of it, it's releasing. My therapist had me pretend that he was Mizuki, and after a few tries, I got the hang of doing it that way. It feels much better, much more private, than trying to describe it to a stranger. Treat everything as though I already know about it."

"But you don't," Ibiki said.

Iruka gave him a small smile. "But this isn't for me. This is for you."

Ibiki looked at Iruka with awe. _What a remarkable little teacher you are._ He didn't mean it patronizingly in the silence of his head. It was just, Iruka seemed so soft and gentle…useless, really, in an adult world – until he'd met the man and gotten to know him properly. Iruka was a fighter. And…a healer. Those qualities were rare to find in the same person.

"H-How…do I start?" Ibiki whispered.

Iruka squeezed his arms gently, then backed up a few paces. "Anywhere. Start anywhere. Anything that comes to mind. Maybe something you would say to Idate if you saw him again. The way you might get his attention, tell him it's you if your appearance has changed any. Or just launch right into what you need to say in your innermost heart."

Ibiki shifted uncomfortably and tried to see Idate in the man. Maybe if he could, it would help. Slowly, he picked out similarities. Physically, Iruka was taller and older, a little thinner. But they both had olive skin, brown eyes, dark brown hair. That was similar enough. He tried to see Idate's eyes – a little darker than Iruka's, a little rounder. He swallowed, uncomfortable, and – who was he kidding? Afraid. He was afraid of saying the things he'd locked away in his chest.

"I'll…I'll apologize for everything, first off, if you will just forgive me. I can't believe I – I screwed things up so badly." Awkward. Terrible. A huge part of Ibiki's brain was going, _What do I think I'm doing? _

"I'll listen," Iruka said softly. "If I hear anything I need to forgive you for, I will."

Ibiki was startled by the response, but he tried to accept it. He nodded slowly. _Well, I guess it wouldn't do any good to talk to Idate if he didn't answer back._ The tiny hairs on his arms stood up at the idea of having a dialogue with 'Idate'.

With an internal gathering of resolve, Ibiki threw himself in.

He found himself getting down on one knee and bowing his head, kneeling in front of Iruka – Idate. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean to do those things that I did. I didn't mean to…hurt you so –" His voice caught. "-so much." He swallowed a lump in his throat. _Oh, god, I'm going to cry_. He squeezed his eyes shut. "I should have done more to prevent it. I'm your niisan. I should have protected you!"

"It's my fault, too, isn't it?" Without seeing his face, Ibiki could easily imagine that he was hearing Idate's voice.

It gave him a minor flash of panic. "No, no, it's not! It's not! It would never be your fault. I love you so much. I just didn't want you to be hurt, I –"

"But you didn't hurt me, did you, Niisan?"

"But I saw." Ibiki found himself on his hands and knees, shaking so hard he almost collapsed. "But I saw, and I'm sorry!"

A pair of knees appeared in view. A warm hand stroked his back. "It's alright, Niisan. I forgive you. It's alright."

A whimper emerged from Ibiki's throat. "But I should have stopped them. I was there! I was there, and I couldn't move –" Tears ran down his cheeks. "I couldn't move and you were screaming and I couldn't move. I'm sorry. Niisan is sorry. I'm sorry…"

Idate wrapped warm, strong arms around him and held him. Ibiki pressed into the touch, feeling like a fool, wetness trickling down his cheeks. "I love you. I love you so much and I couldn't save you."

"It's not the end of the world, Niisan. I couldn't save you, either."

"Oh, Idate." Ibiki wrapped his arms around his brother and choked on a laugh. "You couldn't save me either? How like you. I –"

He looked up, realized all at once he was seeing Iruka's face – it was Iruka he was holding, not Idate, Iruka who was responding, not Idate – and kissed Iruka passionately, cupping Iruka's face with both hands. For that small moment in which Ibiki had been able to let himself go, believe it was Idate, that small moment in which his brother held him and said, somehow, the things he needed to hear…

Ibiki sucked in Iruka's lower lip and slipped his tongue into Iruka's mouth, tasting. Tears ran down his cheeks, but he didn't even care. He sought Iruka out, twining their tongues together, and slid his hands down slowly, down to Iruka's jaw, down Iruka's neck. Then he couldn't hold back anymore, and he wrapped his arms around Iruka in a tight hug, pressing their bodies together.

Iruka's arms tightened around him, holding him again, holding him like Idate would if his brother had had the chance –

Ibiki moaned into Iruka's mouth. He knew they were on the floor in the living room, and he didn't care. He pulled Iruka down, down on the carpet with him, and rolled them, pinning Iruka underneath him, cuddling up against the teacher and trailing a line of kisses down Iruka's neck. He met the collar of Iruka's spandex suit and bit it. That ineffectual punishment didn't work, so he reached up and peeled the collar down, licking Iruka's bared neck.

Iruka moaned, tilting his head away, allowing Ibiki greater access.

"Stupid – uniform," Ibiki panted.

Iruka laughed breathlessly. "Morino-san –"

"Biki," Ibiki said. "Call me Biki. My brother did."

Iruka wrapped his arms around Ibiki's neck and kissed Ibiki tenderly. "Now do you believe that I love you?"

"I do," Ibiki said. He kissed Iruka in return.

Iruka let out a sigh that sounded like mingled relief and arousal. "I want –"

Ibiki kissed his neck and sucked gently, turning Iruka's words into a strangled moan.

"I want you to carry me to the bedroom," Iruka said, getting it out this time.

Ibiki kissed him and sucked on his lower lip. "I can do that." He scooped Iruka up into his arms, marveling at how strong and protective it made him feel to clutch Iruka to his chest, and walked to the bedroom. He didn't bother pulling the covers down on the bed before setting Iruka down and climbing on top of the teacher.

Iruka half-sat up, laughing. "If you want me to get out of this stupid uniform, you need to give me a moment, Biki."

Ibiki sheepishly retreated, standing in front of the end of the bed. He could feel warmth in his cheeks.

Iruka wrestled his vest off and then peeled off his spandex shirt, revealing a toned, wiry torso and slim, muscular arms.

Ibiki couldn't resist. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around Iruka's waist, nibbling an exposed collarbone and kissing his way down to Iruka's chest, nuzzling. "I can't – believe – how turned on I feel." He panted.

"I can," Iruka said softly, sounding amused. "I'm the one being ravished here." He wrapped his arms around Ibiki and pulled Ibiki onto the bed, on top of him. "I am more than willing to be ravished, Biki-chan."

That variation of his name did something strange to Ibiki. It punched some hidden button inside of him, made his chest burn, his stomach tighten. He felt suddenly younger. It wasn't like the annoyance and hidden affection he felt when Anko did that to his name. Hearing it from a man's lips was entirely different.

Ibiki kissed Iruka deeply, cherishing, claiming. His hands roamed Iruka's bare torso possessively. He wanted to hear that name from Iruka, a lot. "Say it again." His voice was a husky growl.

"Biki-chan?" Iruka sounded hesitant.

"Mm." There was something delicious about hesitancy in Iruka's voice. Ibiki kissed down to Iruka's neck and sucked, licking and nuzzling. "I need you." Those words fit in Ibiki's mouth strangely. He didn't 'need' people, not out of a professional context. But he needed Iruka. He was burning with the need for Iruka. Like a man starved and beaten, he burned for Iruka. "Can you know –" Ibiki panted against Iruka's skin.

Iruka ran a gentle hand over Ibiki's head. "I know," he said quietly.

That undid him. Ibiki yanked his coat off, threw it across the room. He peeled off his gloves and tossed them, not caring where they went, unbuttoned his slate blue jacket, pulled off his white t-shirt, getting rid of the lot of it. He nestled against Iruka, feeling the hot slickness of skin against skin. "Ruka," he said in a low voice. It rumbled inside his chest like impending thunder. "May I call you that?"

"You may call me that," Iruka said.

"Ruka," Ibiki said ponderously, "I want to be inside of you."

"Oh."

Ibiki chuckled at that flustered noise. "Do you want to feel me inside of you?"

"Um…yes."

Ibiki looked up from kissing Iruka's collarbone and saw Iruka's flushed face. "Good. Because I want to know you. In every way possible. Inside and out." He licked across Iruka's collarbone, then down to Iruka's nipple. He kissed it, ran his tongue around it, felt his erection pulse in response to the hardness of it. Then he took Iruka's nipple into his mouth and sucked, flicking his tongue over it. It was a brand new experience, and he savored it. Iruka tasted warm. Like skin.

Ibiki moaned deeply and licked across Iruka's entire areola, trembling.

Iruka jerked underneath him, breath hitching.

Ibiki felt Iruka grow hard against him. "Pants off," he decided.

"Uh-huh," Iruka responded breathlessly.

They scrambled apart long enough to get rid of their pants, and Iruka bravely jettisoned his underwear, throwing his plain white boxers to the floor. He raised an eyebrow at Ibiki.

Ibiki flushed, but he followed suit, stepping out of his boxers as well. His black boxers fell over Iruka's white. He glanced down, struck by the symbolism for a moment, and then looked at Iruka. "Get on the bed more."

"Hai." Iruka sat back on the bed and scooted further down, until his head rested on the pillow. He spread his legs invitingly.

Ibiki couldn't look at that sight for more than a second before climbing onto the bed and settling between Iruka's legs. Their erections brushed against each other as they kissed, their hands roaming over each other's bodies.

He kissed Iruka's neck, tenderly, needy. He needed, suddenly, to hear Iruka's moans of pleasure. Needed to hear those panting breaths, feel Iruka's squirming and know it was because he was making Iruka feel good.

Iruka squirmed, reached out and fumbled at the handle of the first drawer in Ibiki's nightstand.

"What're you –"

Iruka pulled the drawer open with a scrape of wood on wood and reached inside, rummaging. He pulled out a bottle of clear liquid.

Ibiki flushed. "How did you – did you look in there –"

Iruka grinned. "I not only looked, I approve." He flicked the cap open on the bottle of lubrication and sniffed delicately. "Oranges. I like it."

Ibiki couldn't find it in him to be irritated at the invasion. He was amused. "You really want me, huh?"

Iruka nodded and gave Ibiki a boyish smile. "Uh-huh. But I would have waited much longer than this if I'd had to."

Ibiki kissed him, mouthing Iruka's lips. Then he pulled away, grinning. "Lucky you, then."

"Mm-hmm." Iruka licked his lips. "You taste like cherry cola."

"Do not," Ibiki said, startled.

Iruka grinned and retorted, "Do too."

Ibiki snorted. "Whatever."

Iruka sat up against the headboard a little, the pillow catching on his shoulders and getting pushed up. He reached down and started stroking his erection.

Ibiki took his wrist. "Stop that. That's mine."

"What?" Iruka looked at him with wide eyes.

Ibiki slipped down between Iruka's legs and licked Iruka's erection, then kissed Iruka's hand and let it go. "You like this, right?" He whispered against the hot skin of Iruka's leaking erection. "You want me to?"

"Yes, of course," Iruka said, flustered. "If you want –"

Ibiki took Iruka's erection into his mouth, going down almost all the way. He didn't know what he was doing; he was guided by his arousal and his need to give Iruka pleasure. Iruka was tangy and salty, and it wasn't bad. Ibiki sucked and then pulled his head back, licking the tip of Iruka's erection. Iruka tasted salty there, and then sweet. Ibiki found that curious, so he sucked gently on the tip, lapping at the slick, sensitive skin.

Iruka cried out.

Ibiki kept up his exploration, encouraged. He shifted, resting his hands on Iruka's opened thighs, and traced his tongue around the tip of Iruka's erection. He lapped at the slit, feeling moisture welling up at his ministrations, and was encouraged by Iruka's loud moan, Iruka's trembling. He licked the length of Iruka's erection, feeling how hot it was, how it pulsed. Then he took it into his mouth again.

Feeling more prepared, he settled into sucking and mouthing Iruka's erection. He ran his tongue along it, slid it in and out of his mouth, and generally allowed himself to feel possessive.

Iruka made delicious noises. Ibiki found himself smiling at the loudness. At least he didn't have to wonder whether he was having any effect. Iruka was a fervent praiser.

"I'm going to come," Iruka said suddenly. His hips jerked. "I'm going to come. Biki –"

Ibiki withdrew, releasing Iruka's erection with a lick and gathering himself into a sitting position. "Am I right that you want me to stop?"

Iruka nodded quickly. "I don't want to come that way."

"How do you want to come?" Ibiki asked. He was puzzled – he never knew a person could be choosy about how they got an orgasm – but also intrigued.

"With you inside me," Iruka whispered. "I'm not ready to come until that happens."

Ibiki reached out and stroked Iruka's cheek. "Okay. I'm alright with that."

Iruka looked at him with shining eyes. "I want you inside of me now. Prepare me with your fingers first, okay? I don't know how you do this, but –"

"I don't," Ibiki said. He gave Iruka a wry smile. "I need instructions."

"Oh." Iruka turned pink, all the way to his ears.

Ibiki chuckled. It was cute.

Iruka nodded and visibly changed over to his teacher persona. "Right. Well, first you coat a finger in lubrication and gently – gently, and slowly – press inside of me. If I spasm, stop what you're doing until my body relaxes again. I can't predict how much of that is going to happen, but you need to be patient. My body can't be rushed. Once you get one finger moving in and out of me smoothly, ask me, and I'll tell you if I'm ready for you to add another. After three fingers, I should be able to accept you. Meaning –" He gestured at Ibiki's erection.

"I've got it," Ibiki said. Now that Iruka had called his attention to it, he was so hard he was aching. "How do you want to…" He gestured helplessly. "What arrangement is this? How are you going to be oriented to me?"

"Oh." Iruka blushed brighter. "That's a good question."

_It is?_ Ibiki had thought it was just his ignorance. "How many positions can there be?"

Iruka gave him a coy smile.

Ibiki flushed.

Iruka laughed at the look on his face. "Don't worry, we'll start out simple. I'll get on my hands and knees, and you'll be behind me, and you'll prepare me with your fingers." He handed Ibiki the bottle of lubrication. "I could do it in other ways, but this one is the easiest on you."

"What if I don't want the easiest?" Ibiki retorted. "What if I want the sexiest? I want to be able to see your face."

Iruka turned red. "Oh…Well…If I…" He shifted uncertainly. "If I lie on my back, and you allow me to rest my legs on you…you should be able to…"

Ibiki thought he saw what Iruka meant. He knelt between Iruka's legs seiza style and gently took Iruka's legs underneath the calves, lifting them. "Here."

Iruka rested his legs on Ibiki's shoulders, then shook his head slightly and pulled his legs back, hooking one arm behind his knees. "Here. This should be simpler."

Ibiki's eyes widened at that position. He felt himself leaking. "Oh…kay…"

Iruka gave him a sultry, half-lidded look. "Be gentle with me, Biki."

Ibiki thought Iruka knew just how much that turned him on. "Y…Yes." He swallowed, taking the bottle of lubrication in shaking hands. He accidentally poured out too much, getting his fingers wet and dripping on the bed.

"That's okay," Iruka said, before Ibiki even realized he was upset.

Ibiki took a deep breath and nodded. He leaned forward, resting a hand on the underside of Iruka's thigh, and nerved himself up to touch Iruka's entrance. He extended a finger and just barely brushed it.

Iruka made a soft noise in the back of his throat.

Ibiki snatched his fingers back.

"Don't be afraid," Iruka said softly. "I love you. I want to feel you inside of me."

Ibiki looked into Iruka's eyes and slowly reached out again. He stroked Iruka's entrance. It contracted sharply. Ibiki's breath hitched.

"It's good," Iruka whispered.

Ibiki closed his eyes and touched, caressing.

Iruka moaned. "Now slide one finger inside of me. S-Stop teasing…me…"

Ibiki swallowed and pressed against Iruka's entrance. His finger went in more easily than he thought it should. Iruka's body enveloped his fingertip in heat. He hesitated, then realized nothing bad was happening, and pressed a little more.

Iruka moaned and arched his back. "More…"

Ibiki's nerves were shattered instantly. He was thrilled, scared, and aroused all at once. "I'm not hurting you? It doesn't hurt?"

"No," Iruka said, shaking his head, and even that was a moan with a word wrapped inside of it.

Ibiki was alarmed at how Iruka's body took in his entire finger and rippled, hot and massaging. He froze.

"Mm…" Iruka licked his lips slowly. "So good…Biki…feels so good. Need you so much."

Some of the tension uncoiled in Ibiki's stomach, allowing him to breathe. "Okay."

The entire process was like this; Ibiki went through the whole thing in a haze of horror, expecting something to go wrong. Nothing did, and Iruka encouraged him, and he got through it. But when it came time to put himself inside of Iruka, he couldn't do it.

Iruka was panting and flushed and completely delicious looking.

Ibiki paused helplessly, taking in the sight of Iruka's slack, contented expression. "Ruka…"

"Yes, Biki-chan?" Iruka whispered.

"Please tell me there's a way to do this where you're on top," Ibiki said.

Iruka looked startled. "Of course. Yes, I can –" Comprehension flooded his features. "Oh." He gazed at Ibiki tenderly. "Yes, love. I can be on top of you and penetrated by you, too. Here."

He reached out and pulled Ibiki down to the bed, rolled them so that Ibiki was on his back and he was straddling Ibiki's hips. "It's as simple as this. Are you ready?"

Ibiki nodded. Relief flooded through him, making him warm. He didn't think he could describe for Iruka how glad he was for the reprieve.

Iruka shifted, graceful, and fluidly sat down on Ibiki's erection, sliding Ibiki inside of him.

Ibiki let out a shout, his back arching. "Oh, god! Oh, god." At the heat and pressure and slickness, he almost came then and there. He lay underneath Iruka, shivering.

When his vision cleared enough to see Iruka, he almost came again. Iruka's back was arched, his lips parted and nipples hard. His erection was glistening, curved gently upwards. It was the single most beautiful sight Ibiki had ever seen.

Then Iruka rolled his hips, and pleasure exploded inside of Ibiki's head, blinding him and thrusting him into a world of darkness. Each breath tingled on his tongue, each movement of Iruka's rolled through him, a wave crashing and licking and burning.

Panting filled his ears, and he couldn't tell whose breaths were whose.

After an eternity of joined bodies moving against each other, deriving pleasure from each other, Ibiki came. It was gentle; gentler than he expected. Like a tide rushing out and never coming back in. His hips spasmed, and then he was empty. Very empty. So empty he floated.

All of a sudden, heat and sanity crashed back into him, and he found himself in bed with Iruka, snuggling against Iruka's chest. They were both lying on their sides, arms around each other, and Ibiki had a feeling it was Iruka's doing. He moaned.

"You were out," Iruka said, teasing, a chuckle in his voice.

"Maybe," Ibiki mumbled.

Iruka kissed his temple. "You were so out."

Ibiki murmured and snuggled against Iruka more closely.

Iruka laughed. "I love you, Biki-bear."

Ibiki didn't think the man could have chosen a more embarrassing, more adorable nickname. "I love you too," he mumbled, too tired to come up with something stupid for Iruka.

Iruka covered his face in kisses, and he fell asleep.

Smiling, for once.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

"Wake up, Biki," an amused voice said.

For a horrible moment, Ibiki thought that Anko had snuck into his apartment. Then he realized the voice was male, not female, and the world suddenly made more sense. He opened his eyes, finding Iruka standing over him already dressed. "You," he blurted.

Iruka grinned sheepishly. "Me." He toyed with a lock of hair. "Well. That's not exactly the greeting I was looking for, but I suppose it'll do." He leaned down and kissed Ibiki's lips. "Since you were right about it being me and all." He straightened, looking more pleased with himself than rueful at this point.

Ibiki wondered how Iruka could be so full of energy at this hour in the morning. He groaned, rubbed his eyes, and looked at the clock. 6:30. "How come you're so chipper?"

"Coffee," Iruka said. "It's all coffee."

Ibiki sat up with a grunt.

"Want a cup?" Iruka asked brightly.

"May as well," Ibiki muttered. He was not a coffee drinker. He knew Anko lived on the stuff. _Wait…_He drew an instant connection between Iruka's behavior at the moment and Anko's. _No wonder I mistook the teacher for my co-worker_.

Iruka shot out of the room and came back with a steaming cup of black stuff. "Careful, it's hot." He handed the mug over.

Ibiki took it by the handle. He examined the mug first. He'd never seen it before. It was white, with the logo of the Academy on it. He took a sip of coffee – Bitter, not bad. – and realized that it was home brewed coffee. "I don't have a coffee maker."

"I know," Iruka said cheerfully. "I brought over mine."

"When?" Ibiki gave Iruka a wary look.

"When I woke up this morning," Iruka said. "You didn't have coffee, so I popped over to my place, picked up a few things, and came back."

"Wait," Ibiki said. "It is way too early for you to be 'popping over' and 'picking up a few things'. We've barely been dating for twelve hours. Most of them I spent asleep."

Iruka grinned. "But the few you had awake were pretty great, weren't they?" He winked.

Ibiki flushed slightly and scowled. He took another sip of coffee. "Iruka…"

"Ruka," Iruka corrected.

Ibiki scowled more deeply. "You cannot simply move over here."

"Why, simply, not?"

"Because I said so," Ibiki snapped.

Iruka raised his eyebrows. "Oh." He raised his hands in a mockery of the real defensive posture Ibiki had inspired yesterday. "Big Biki-bear is going to get out of bed and beat me up."

Ibiki sat aside his coffee on the nightstand and climbed out of bed, standing. He towered over the man by a satisfying margin. "No," he said slowly. "I am going to tell you to keep your coffee maker and your mugs and your god-knows-what-else to yourself. While I use the bathroom, I want you to clear that stuff out of my house and back into your house, if you can just 'pop over' so easily."

He stormed across the room and shut the bathroom door behind him.

"You're grumpy in the morning," Iruka called.

When Ibiki came out, Iruka was blessedly absent, so he got dressed and shaved. By the time he finished, he began to feel a little empty that Iruka wasn't there, so he went in search of the man. Iruka was waiting by the front door. "Ready to go face Tsunade?"

Ibiki nodded, then glanced at the coffee maker sitting on his kitchen counter and stopped. "I thought –" He felt an inexplicable easing of tension in his chest, as well as a wave of defeat.

"You didn't mean it," Iruka said. He tilted his head, looking at Ibiki sympathetically. "Like I said, you were just grumpy." He reached out and squeezed Ibiki's arm. "Now let's go. She hates to be kept waiting and I said I would be there at seven o'clock in the morning sharp."

"When?" Ibiki protested.

"When you got up to use the bathroom at work yesterday, and I kept working, I got it into my head to warn Tsunade we were coming," Iruka said. "It seemed wise."

"Oh." Ibiki considered that. "Yes."

"And if we do this in the morning, it gets all taken care of, and we can go to work, and Tsunade hasn't started drinking yet," Iruka said.

Ibiki had to smile. "All true. Okay, Ruka, let's go." He squeezed Iruka's shoulder in return, feeling much better about things.

On the way out of the apartment building, he realized that a large part of his subconscious had assumed that since Iruka slept with him, the teacher was just going to leave him. That was worrisome. Ibiki noted it and put it on the list of things to talk to his therapist about today.

It was always best to go to an appointment already knowing what to talk about. Otherwise, the therapist controlled the conversation, and that never went anywhere useful. Therapists were wonderful people, but they hated silences and uncertainties. They wanted so much to help that they filled the silence, attempting to give advice even about topics Ibiki didn't need help with. Just to try to give him his fifty minutes, he guessed. Make it worth his while to come. But that was always more a hindrance than a help.

On the way to Tsunade's office, Ibiki composed a list of issues in his head. He definitely needed to talk about this 'sex makes me disposable' thing. That wasn't good. Especially since he'd enjoyed himself. _Aside from that brief panic episode about being on top. Okay, I should mark that, too. Put that on the list._

So far, he had two sexual things. What about the reason why he'd made the appointment in the first place? Iruka thought he needed help grieving. Ibiki didn't know why on earth he should want to grieve more, not less, but he wasn't completely blind to the fact that somehow, releasing his feelings about Idate had led to mind-blowing sex.

**xXx**

Ibiki supposed he should not have been surprised to see that Tsunade was awake and alert at this hour, but he was. He'd heard the stereotype of her as a binge drinker, and even marginally believed it. But no binge drinker would look this healthy.

_Unless she's using the advantage of medical jutsu,_ Ibiki mused. _That could be a possibility._

"So you want to transfer to T&I," Tsunade said. "Please explain." She gestured at Iruka.

Ibiki figured that meant he could stand here and let Iruka do all the talking. That was fine with him. Unlike the two of them, he was barely past the grunting stage of waking up in the morning.

"Morino-san happened to mention his mountain of paperwork the other day," Iruka said. "I was surprised, because I thought T&I was more about raw data collection than it was about paperwork, but when I went to his workplace, I saw it was true. They have to fill out more paperwork than probably any other division in Konoha. Isn't that right, Godaime-sama?"

Tsunade shrugged.

Iruka smiled brightly. "So I was thinking that since Morino-san's office is going to experience a crush soon, with all the demand for information on Akatsuki in addition to their regular workload, I should transfer there to work part-time as a helping hand."

"That's very altruistic of you," Tsunade said. She smiled wryly. "Is this also because even a part-time paperwork ninja in the T&I division earns more than a full-time ninja in the Records division? In addition to getting better medical and paid leave?"

Iruka bowed. "Respectfully, Godaime-sama, I have no outstanding debts, so I have no need for an increase in wages."

"True," Tsunade said, gesturing with a pen. "But anyone can want to increase their standard of living." She smiled. "In either case, you may transfer. I trust you will improve Morino-san's efficiency." She glanced at Ibiki as if to say, _Yes, I know you're slow. I've been aware of it this entire time._

Ibiki took the criticism without reaction, remaining outwardly stone-faced.

"Then I shall fill out transfer papers down the hall," Iruka said. "To make myself clear, I do intend to work part time in the Mission Room, part time in the Records division, and part time in Morino-san's division in addition to my teaching duties. I will simply be moving grading duty onto the plates of the newer chunin who need the extra hours."

Tsunade raised her eyebrows. "When do you sleep?"

"At night," Iruka said. "Generally."

Shizune hid a smile behind her hand.

"Clever," Tsunade said. "That was an actual question."

Iruka bowed. "I apologize for the levity, Godaime-sama. Truthfully, sticking to the same job in the same routine too long gives me Restless Leg Syndrome. My solution to not taking missions outside the village is to change up my routine as much as possible. I will not be doing all of those jobs on the same day. I will have a checkered routine, so to speak, adjustable depending on who needs me the most." He straightened. "However, my duties with Morino-san are not negotiable. They will come first, due to the extreme need of this village to defend against its enemies."

"I appreciate that," Tsunade said softly, looking at him with sympathy.

Ibiki vaguely recollected that Tsunade had some kind of a personal connection to Naruto, like Iruka did. _Neither one of them want to lose the kid; it's not a jinchuuriki thing, it's a Naruto thing. They don't give a rat's ass about him being the jinchuuriki._ It was refreshing, and something that Ibiki found he admired in both of them. He'd known full well who Naruto was when he'd seen the boy in the Chunin Exam; and he'd known that Naruto was aware of his status as jinchuuriki. It hadn't impacted Naruto's resolve at all.

At some point, Ibiki knew he would have to interrogate the boy; that would be an interesting day.

Tsunade's expression firmed up, and she looked at Ibiki with determination. "Morino-san."

"Yes, Tsunade-sama." Ibiki bowed.

"You're a lucky man," Tsunade said. "Iruka's a valuable commodity around here. Treat him well; you know he was a favorite of Sandaime. I would be remiss in my duty to honor my teacher if I allowed you to misuse or overwork our Iruka."

Ibiki straightened and raised an eyebrow. "Noted."

"And make sure he eats," Tsunade ordered. "I don't want him dropping from exhaustion."

Iruka flushed. "Godaime-sama, please."

"And make sure he knows he can use the bathroom."

"Godaime-sama!" Iruka protested.

Tsunade smirked at him fondly. "Go down the hall and fill out your transfer papers."

Iruka grinned, relaxing. "Yes, Godaime-sama. And thank you."

"Don't thank me," Tsunade said. "T&I is a dreary hellhole. I wouldn't transfer down there to help the Sage of Six Paths himself."

Iruka snorted, and burst out laughing. "Then I won't ask."

Tsunade grinned. "Don't," she agreed.

xXx

After Iruka filled out and filed his transfer paperwork, he and Ibiki walked to work.

"Had breakfast?" Ibiki asked as they neared the unassuming building.

"No," Iruka retorted. "I barely had time to make coffee."

"Then you should eat breakfast first, before clocking on for duty," Ibiki said. "I wouldn't want you dropping from exhaustion in the first hour."

"Ha!" Iruka gave him a scornful look. "On a good cup of coffee, I can last four hours."

"Please don't," Ibiki said wryly. "Tsunade would kill me."

Iruka looked surprised, and then sheepish. "Protective, isn't she?"

"Nn-hnn."

Iruka blushed slightly.

After they were through the security checkpoint on the strength of Ibiki's ID, he said, "First things first. We need to get you one of these." Ibiki held up his laminated ID card. "Simple enough to make on the computer."

Iruka's eyes widened. "You have a computer down here?"

"Fills half a room, with all the stuff we've got attached to it," Ibiki said. "But yeah." He grinned and punched the down button for the elevator. "Where do you think you are? This is T&I. We get all the goodies that the other divisions dream of. We're at least fifteen years ahead of you guys."

"I'm not 'you guys' anymore," Iruka said primly.

Ibiki examined him. "No, I suppose not."

The elevator door opened.

xXx

Ibiki waited until Iruka was fed to spring introductions on the man. He gathered everyone into a conference room and had them line up. No particular order; just to make themselves look presentable.

Ibiki paced. "This is Umino Iruka. You probably know him as The Paperwork Ninja. Well, that's what he's here for. We've had an increase in paperwork that we need to process, so Umino-san has generously agreed to help us sort through it. He'll be working with me, but if you have any questions or think that you could use a hand, be sure to drop by the office and borrow him."

"Er…doesn't that mean he's a captain?" somebody asked. He had worried eyes and mousy brown hair pulled up into a samurai style ponytail like Iruka's.

Ibiki nodded. "That does indeed. So treat him with respect."

He stopped beside Iruka and gestured at the people lined up. "There are a lot of people in T&I, but these are the main players. The people who report directly to me, who handle the baddest baddies, crack the toughest nuts, and routinely pass their psychological screenings with flying colors. These are the people who are just too tough to quit."

The interrogators bowed and murmured basically in unison, "Pleased to meet you."

Iruka bowed in return. "Pleased as well, I'm sure." He straightened. "I look forward to working with all of you."

"We'll start down the line," Ibiki said. He started at the left end of the line of people. "This is Hijiri Shimon. Like the others, he is versed in mind reading techniques. Be aware that when he touches you, he is more likely than not probing for information."

A few people chuckled at Ibiki's words.

Shimon didn't comment. He merely bowed.

"Don't worry about not being able to see his eyes," Ibiki said. "You don't want to. Trust me. Like the Uchiha and the Hyuuga clans, the Hijiri clan specializes in eye jutsu. Only this one is bound to explode your head."

Shimon shifted slightly. His long forelocks hid his eyes completely. "The Captain exaggerates." He had a smooth, quiet voice. "It is true that by excessive force, I might cause a catastrophic rupture of the target's head, but that is hardly the purpose of my clan's jutsu."

Iruka bowed. "Good to know."

Ibiki moved on to the next person. "This up-and-coming young man is Yana Mozuku. He's an expert mind reader with a photographic memory."

Mozuku wore a blue bandana on his head and glasses with rectangular frames. He was dressed in the standard issue slate blue uniform, complete with black gloves. He bowed, light glinting off of his glasses from the florescent lights. "Pleased to meet you, Umino-san."

"You as well," Iruka said, bowing. "And it's Iruka. I want to clarify that even though Morino-san might insist on calling me 'Umino', I am very comfortable with being referred to by my first name."

Mozuku straightened and gave Iruka a smile with an unsettling edge. "Good to know. I'd like to advise you, however, that people who wish to go by their first names often do so because they are uncomfortable with authority over others. I'd get rid of any discomfort about your position as soon as possible, Umino-san. We're a rough group, and you need to be able to run roughshod over us to get results. The Captain will tell you."

Iruka flushed.

"He's mouthy," Ibiki said, "but he gets results."

Mozuku frowned. "I only state my opinions when they're right."

This caused a round of chuckles.

"No offense is taken," Iruka said. "I'll keep the advice in mind. And it really is just Iruka."

Mozuku nodded, the smile returning. "Alright, Just-Iruka."

Iruka glared at the man, but couldn't seem to muster much heat.

Ibiki moved on, stepping to the right once more. "This is Tatami Iwashi. He's Yana's sempai. I'm sure you can tell."

Iwashi wore a bandana identical to Mozuku's. He was Iruka's age. His upper lip was clean shaven, but he had a pointed goatee. He also wore the standard issue uniform. Iwashi bowed quickly. "I am pleased to meet you, Iruka-san."

"And I'm pleased to meet you," Iruka said, bowing.

Ibiki gestured. "As well as being versed in mind reading, Tatami is also a sensor nin with a strong earth release talent."

Iwashi nodded. "I am often sent on retrieval missions if our Captain thinks that we would benefit from having a presence."

"I will keep that in mind," Iruka said.

Ibiki moved on. "This is Tobitake Tonbo. And yes, he can see you."

Tonbo grinned, his cigarette bobbing. As of yet, it wasn't lit, but he seemed to enjoy having it in his mouth anyway. Bandages covered his head, coming down over his cheeks on either side. His forehead protector was firmly bound where his eyes would be. He wore the slate blue uniform as well, but with bandages wrapped around his forearms and hands, like a pair of fingerless gloves. There were also bandages wrapped around his calves.

He bowed with a sarcastic flair. "Ah, Iruka-sensei. I've heard how your students love you."

"Thank you," Iruka said, bowing in return. "I didn't know I was so popular."

Tonbo straightened. "Oh, they'll remember you. You're the one who taught them so many important life lessons."

Iruka straightened with a self-conscious expression.

"Stop probing the school teacher," Ibiki drawled.

Tonbo's smile disappeared. "Apologies, Taichou."

"Tobitake can read your mind without touching you," Ibiki said. "He explains it as x-ray vision."

Iruka smiled weakly.

"It means he has no manners," Mozuku volunteered.

"Watch it, kid," Tonbo said.

Ibiki reached the end of the line. "And, you know our very own Mitarashi Anko."

Anko grinned. She had a dango stick in her mouth. "I'm on my very best behavior, Ruru-chan! That's 'cause Biki bought me some dango before this little get together."

Iruka looked at her incredulously, and then laughed.

"It's true!" Anko looked at him with wide eyes. "Dango always works." She nodded. "You should remember that in case you need to bribe me."

"I will," Iruka said, grinning.

Anko grinned back.

"Alright, you two," Ibiki said mildly. Then he gestured to the group as a whole. "You're dismissed. Get back to work before I bring out the whip."

"Hai, Taichou!" they chorused. Then the illusion of order disintegrated, each person going their own way. Mozuku and Iwashi walked side by side, headed for the vending machine and chatting.

Anko made a beeline for the drinks machine. Ibiki predicted coffee. He was correct in his assumption.

"What about you, Morino-san?" Iruka asked playfully. "Have you had breakfast?"

"I don't get hungry until one in the afternoon," Ibiki said.

"Sounds like a reaction to improper endurance training," Iruka said.

Ibiki shrugged.

"Eat something and see if it doesn't make you hungry," Iruka suggested.

"How about you just drop it?" Ibiki suggested in return.

Iruka bought him a bag of little rice crackers.

Ibiki sighed and accepted it. He ate it on the way to his – their – office. By the time he unlocked the door and sat down, he was hungry. Iruka triumphantly brought him beef ramen from the cafeteria. He somehow managed to eat it without splattering beef broth on any papers.

He grudgingly admitted to himself that maybe it was nice to have someone here taking care of him. God knows Anko tried. He just never let her get very far. Anko, however, respected his personal boundaries outside of work. Iruka did not. This seemed to factor into Iruka's success.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Ibiki settled down into his routine dealing with papers, his head bent low towards his desk, one hand gripping a pen, the other pressing the document flat against the desk.

For several minutes, he and Iruka worked in silence.

Then Iruka started caressing the hand he was using to hold the paper flat. Tingles raced up Ibiki's arm, making him shiver slightly. His neck tingled in response. He tried to ignore it. After all, Iruka was just brushing fingers against the back of his hand.

He glanced up.

Iruka smiled innocently at the report he was working on.

Ibiki narrowed his eyes and decided to let it go, suppressing a smile.

A few minutes later, Iruka did it again.

Ibiki sighed in exasperation and leaned back in his chair. "Could you stop that?"

"Stop what?" Iruka asked.

Ibiki wanted to laugh. _Is he flirting with me? Seriously?_ He didn't know what to do with such a thing. Nobody ever flirted with him before. "That thing you're doing."

"Mmm…" Iruka tapped his bottom lip with his pen and then rested his lips on it in what Ibiki was almost sure was a purposefully seductive gesture. "I don't want to. There's no reason to stop reading this report. I'm almost done."

Ibiki rolled his eyes. "I mean the other thing."

"What other thing?"

Ibiki's eyebrow twitched. _Okay, this is starting to get less cute._

Iruka glanced at him, one eyebrow raised, and suddenly Ibiki couldn't find his objections. He felt foolish, but his heart skipped a beat at the sight of those dark brown eyes scrutinizing him. "Never mind." He went back to his paperwork.

Over the next fifteen minutes, during which Ibiki finished three reports – somehow – Iruka kept sneaking touches to his hand, and even his wrist.

Ibiki squirmed slightly as Iruka's pinky brushed the side of his wrist. _Damn it! Stop this fooling around!_ He bit the inside of his lip and resolved to get through this.

Then he came to his senses. All he had to do was crack down on Iruka with his professional persona. "Don't get too touchy-feely at work." Ibiki gave the teacher a stern glance.

Iruka grinned. "Yes, Taichou." He stroked Ibiki's hand again.

For some reason, that made Ibiki blush. He steadfastly ignored the crimson heat in his cheeks. "I can't concentrate when you do that."

"Ah." Iruka laughed. "I'll stop. I wouldn't want to make you behind. I'm here to help, after all."

Ibiki was left blushing hotly, confused, and a little hard. The reasons why Iruka would want to tease him this way baffled him.

As the hours wore on, Ibiki found himself checking the clock more and more often. He realized he was nervous about the therapy appointment. It would be his first in years. He'd stopped going once he felt well enough to go back to work.

At one o'clock, he couldn't stand it anymore. He was supposed to go to lunch, and he couldn't eat. His stomach was tied into knots, and he didn't feel hungry, even though he had a low blood sugar headache.

Ibiki knew he had to talk to Iruka about the sex last night. Otherwise, he couldn't begin to face the therapist. How could he face the therapist with a story about sex if he couldn't even talk to the man he'd had sex with?

But how to broach the subject? What he wanted to talk about was intensely awkward. First, he had to go through something of what had happened between him and Idate. Otherwise, nothing he could say about sex would make sense.

Ibiki set down his pen and glanced at the clock one last time before focusing his attention on Iruka.

Iruka got the hint that something was up and set aside his own pen and paper as well, straightening and popping his back. "Well?"

"Well what?" Ibiki asked defensively.

Iruka gave him a wry smile. "Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to say something?"

"If you noticed I was trying to say something, why didn't you say something?" Ibiki retorted.

"Because I'm trying to be less of a pushy asshole," Iruka said, laughing.

"Well, don't." Ibiki glared at him.

Iruka grinned and held up his hands in surrender. "Okay."

"We need to talk about last night," Ibiki said.

"Before I jump to conclusions," Iruka said, raising an eyebrow, "which part?"

"The part before the sex part," Ibiki said.

Iruka relaxed. "Okay."

Ibiki found that curious. _Does he feel guilty about what we did? Why? Does he think he forced me or something? I did what I wanted to do…_ "The sex was great, Ruka. I'm not worried about that."

Iruka gave him a soft smile. "Thank you. For saying that. I was afraid I was rusty or something. Or it wasn't very good, and you were afraid to say anything because you thought it would hurt my feelings."

"Would it?" Ibiki asked automatically.

"Yes," Iruka admitted. "A lot. I gave everything I had to you. I should have been good, if only because my heart was in it."

Ibiki wanted to hug him. "I love you. My heart was in it, too. Please don't be worried about that. How could I tell, anyway? It's not like I sleep around. You felt good to me…and could tell you really cared how I felt. That's important. To me…"

Iruka squeezed his hand. "It's important to me, too. I wanted you to be comfortable."

"Something happened between me and my brother," Ibiki said. He squeezed Iruka's hand in return, not letting go. Somehow, the touch gave him the courage to dive into this topic, when nothing else had.

Iruka nodded. "I gathered that."

"Something bad."

Iruka nodded again.

"I never healed from it," Ibiki said.

"You don't have to talk about it with me if you don't want to," Iruka said.

"I do want to." Ibiki squeezed the teacher's hand again, and ran his thumb across Iruka's knuckles, trying not to let his pulse rise.

"Then go ahead," Iruka said gently.

"I thought that if I just ignored it, that meant I was better," Ibiki said. He paused. His gaze slid to the wall. "It meant I was better if I could ignore it. If I could ignore what would happen and just get on with life, then I was better. I was wrong." He hesitated, and looked at Iruka warily. "I'm very much not better."

"So tell me about it," Iruka said. "I'll learn what to deal with, and we'll get through it together. Whatever 'it' is."

"I watched my brother be raped," Ibiki said. He got the words out in a rush, turning his mind blank in order to say it. Just pushed the words out without analyzing them. "I watched him be raped, but I couldn't help him…" It was too hard to keep up the wall of denial between himself and his words. He felt a deep ache inside; an unpleasant ache in his core. He sighed heavily. "Couldn't help him because…I was being raped too. I had to watch while he…he was screaming for me, and I couldn't come help, I couldn't save him because I was in too much pain, I…"

For a moment, all he could see was the battlefield. Idate on his knees…on the ground…in the grass…wet grass. The grass was wet. All the color washed out.

"I…I…" Ibiki realized he was numb and trembling. Then he was tackled by warmth and solidity. Iruka was hugging him. He weakly hugged Iruka back, nauseous and dizzy.

"Oh my god," Iruka said.

"I know," Ibiki said. He couldn't imagine how horrible it was to hear that he'd watched his brother without doing anything. Even reading the report couldn't convey the sheer horror of being there.

"You were raped?"

Ibiki was surprised. "You didn't know that?"

Iruka pulled back enough so that he could look into Ibiki's eyes. He shook his head. "No! How could I know that?"

"You…you have access to my records," Ibiki said.

"I don't spy on people," Iruka protested.

Ibiki felt better and worse at the same time. "I'm sorry."

"What? Why?" Iruka looked shocked.

"For…for telling you when you didn't know, weren't prepared…"

Iruka caressed the side of his face. "Biki…I'm very glad you told me. I didn't know, and I needed to know." He shook his head slowly. "I couldn't be…I'm very happy you told me. I love you, a lot." He pressed a kiss to Ibiki's lips.

Ibiki let out a surprised noise and cupped the back of Iruka's neck. "Ruka-chan…"

"I'm always here for you," Iruka said.

Ibiki melted and let go of all his tension at the same time. He hadn't been expecting this reaction from Iruka at all. Not at all. He'd expected something like anger, yelling at his nondisclosure last night and sex under false pretenses. Instead, none of that happened, and he was being cuddled. Comforted.

Comforted.

Ibiki let a tear loose, trickling down his cheek until it dripped off his chin. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Ruka…"

Iruka held him closely and cradled his face in both hands, fingers stroking.

Ibiki allowed the whimper to bubble up in his throat without suppressing it and leaned against Iruka, rocking them both gently. He rested his head against Iruka's collarbone and listened to the beating of Iruka's heart.

They stayed like this for a long time.

**xXx**

They brought lunch back to the office. It was beef ramen again for Iruka, and curry for Ibiki. He was sick of ramen. Not a usual statement for him. He figured it had to just be the ramen at work. After all, it couldn't compare to the glorious nectar of the gods that was Ichiraku.

Ibiki snapped apart his chopsticks with a quick movement and took the first bite of his curry. It was spiced with red pepper and jalapeno, just the way he liked it. The rice was bright orangey red.

He thought about what they'd been talking about. They'd never really stopped. Just fallen silent for a while.

"It hurts me," Ibiki said frankly. "It hurts me so much to think that I was responsible. If I hadn't failed Idate, I wouldn't be in this position, and neither would he. If I had shown some mercy, some common sense and known, with all the powers of the interrogator that I should have had, that Idate would be unable to accept my decision…I could have avoided this for him and for me. I could have made sure he resisted temptation, by removing it from his sight. I should have…" He trailed off.

Iruka tilted his head.

Ibiki gave him a small, tired smile. "You don't know the story, do you? People don't talk about it, you didn't read my file…"

"What?" Iruka asked gently. "What don't I know?" He took Ibiki's hand and gently squeezed it.

"I failed him," Ibiki said.

Iruka just looked at him.

"As a proctor," Ibiki said.

Iruka's eyebrows rose. "Oh…You mean that you were the proctor for the exam your brother took? How odd. I thought Sandaime arranged things so that there were no conflicts of interest like that."

"I was prideful," Ibiki said. "It was my rotation again, and I didn't want him to change it for fear that I would pass my brother unfairly. I wanted to prove that I could be impartial. It was very important for my job that I was impartial. It still is. I wanted to…" He looked at his desk. "I should have resigned. Let him transfer me to some other job while Idate took the exam. I shouldn't have been prideful. I lost sight of what my presence as judge and jury would do to Idate. I was only thinking of myself."

Iruka squeezed Ibiki's hand. "That's not the same as wanting him to be raped."

Ibiki looked at Iruka with exasperation. "I know that."

"Do you really?" Iruka asked. "Or are you saying that because it's the right thing to say, up here?" He gently touched the side of Ibiki's head. "What about here?" He touched the spot over Ibiki's heart. "What does this say?"

"I'm seeing a counselor already," Ibiki said wryly. "In less than two hours, in fact."

Iruka sighed, and gave Ibiki an equally wry look, assessing him shrewdly. "That doesn't mean you can't talk about it with me. I'm your 'wife'."

Ibiki choked. "Not my partner? Not my lifemate? Not my boyfriend? 'Wife'?"

Iruka smiled mischievously. "You're the one that's always calling me a girl."

Ibiki growled and took Iruka's shoulders. "You're not a girl." He kissed Iruka firmly.

Iruka moaned and mouthed Ibiki's lips in return, then gently allowed the kiss to end when Ibiki wanted it to. "You don't kiss girls that way, do you?"

Ibiki flushed. "What I do and don't do is none of your business…except as it pertains to you."

Iruka looked away and rubbed his chin. "Hmm…I'm thinking that's a yes, then."

Ibiki scowled, disgruntled.

Iruka winked at him. "You're not the only one who can run an interrogation. I deal with children. I have to learn how to rat out their dirty little secrets so I can be a better teacher. Stop fights, catch people before they play a prank or commit a crime…keep people from being bullied, or embarrassed that they, say, need to go to the bathroom in the middle of a training exercise. I have to read people every bit as much as you do. And everyone was a child at some point…so it's pretty much the same."

He grinned and caressed Ibiki's cheek. "You're not going to have any secrets left."

Ibiki wished that didn't make him blush. But there was something oddly enticing about that statement.

The burden of carrying secrets was more than he had anticipated. More than he had ever anticipated, taking this job. Other people's secrets, he had been ready to handle. He trained to be able to take people's secrets and keep them for himself, keep them for the sake of Konoha, without breaking a sweat. But his own secrets…he had never thought he would have so many. Or that they would be so hard to bear.

He supposed he should have guessed it. He counted on the weightiness of other people's secrets to bring them down.

"Idate…defected," Ibiki admitted. A secret he'd guarded very closely. "He defected because his sensei told him he could be a chunin if he ran through a special test: pretending to steal an ancient artifact in our possession. If he showed he could do it, then he didn't have to take the Chunin Exam. His teacher was lying."

Iruka absorbed this. "Somehow…I wonder if Mizuki knew. He used the same tactic on Naruto."

"Mizuki?" Ibiki was startled. He hadn't thought about that guy in a while. "I don't know. He might have. Aoi and Mizuki served on the same team."

"Aoi?" Iruka shook himself. "I'd forgotten…He was your brother's sensei?"

Ibiki nodded.

"I never knew that," Iruka said. "Aoi was more of Mizuki's friend than mine. Mizuki had a lot of friends. While I…" He hung his head and looked into his beef ramen.

Ibiki squeezed Iruka's shoulder. "It's okay. I wasn't the most popular guy either. It doesn't mean anything about you."

Iruka gave him a small smile. "Okay, Taichou."

Ibiki snorted. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" Iruka asked innocently. "It makes you laugh. I like to see you laugh."

Ibiki blushed, taken off guard. He frowned and looked away. "Well…as I was saying…"

"Yes," Iruka said politely. "Please continue."

"Aoi just wanted the artifact to buy his way into Amegakure," Ibiki said. "It turned out his parents had been originally from Amegakure. They defected in order to join Konoha. Aoi's grandparents were still there. He wanted to rejoin them. He hated his parents, had a falling out of some kind."

"What happened?" Iruka asked, squeezing Ibiki's hand.

Ibiki stared across the office blankly. "I was right on their heels. I was furious…disbelieving…that my brother could do such an act. I caught up to them, only to watch a battle explode around me as Amegakure ninjas met the ANBU team I'd gathered – hand selected, with Sandaime's approval…They died. They died, because I picked them for this mission. They died, because they walked right into an ambush, never suspecting there were more people waiting for them than Aoi and my little brother. Then the Amegakure ninjas took turns raping us. Aoi watched us. Approved. It was some kind of test as well, I bet. For him. To make sure he was hard enough to survive Amegakure life. Their ways over there. They agreed. They took him. And his first job was to interrogate us."

Ibiki saw a flash of the moment when he had ordered Idate to escape. "But Idate escaped. I helped him do that. I told him to run, and he ran…and then I was punished." Tears burned in his eyes, remembering the sheer agony of that. "I…I survived."

He set down his chopsticks.

Iruka took his forearms, made Ibiki look at him. "I'm here. I'm here, and I'm always going to be here."

Ibiki swallowed, and nodded.

Iruka gathered Ibiki into his arms. Ibiki didn't protest. He was much too tired for that. He briefly imagined Iruka as a fisherman and him as the fish, and had to smile. _You reeled me in…I'm too tired to fight your kindness any longer. I need it. I need it more than I can say. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Anko came at just the right moment. "It's time to leave for your appointment in twenty minutes, Biki-chan," she chirped. "Don't be late." She grinned at him and sat down on his desk.

"Get off," Ibiki said mildly. "You know you're not allowed to do that."

Anko gracefully stood up without losing her grin.

"I swear you're like a cat," Ibiki said. "Always going where you're not wanted."

Anko giggled. "Meow." She made a gesture with her hand, like the waving motion of a cat's paw.

Ibiki rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Does that mean if I purr loudly enough, I get dango?" Anko asked.

Ibiki looked at her incredulously. He didn't know whether that was meant to be sexual or not, and he didn't want to know.

"No," Iruka answered for him, jumping into the game. "Only dango for good behavior."

Anko giggled. "Darn."

"That's right," Ibiki said. "You better behave while I'm gone."

"Or what?" Anko asked. "No dango?"

Ibiki nodded. "Uh-huh."

Her eyes twinkled. "That means that if I do good, you owe me dango when you get back."

Ibiki rolled his eyes. He'd been too distracted to catch the nuances of her trap. "Fine."

"I like dango," Iruka said.

_Of course you do,_ Ibiki muttered internally.

"Let's all go get dango together," Iruka suggested. "After work."

Anko squealed happily and jumped into Iruka's lap. "Oh, Ruru-chan, I love you." She rubbed their noses together.

Ibiki groaned. "Hands off."

Iruka's eyebrows rose. "Ooh, possessive, are we?"

"Very," Ibiki said dryly. He gave Iruka and Anko a look.

Anko carefully climbed off of Iruka's lap.

Ibiki sighed. "As long as you don't make out in the closet, it's fine, Anko."

Anko smiled and climbed onto Iruka's lap again.

Iruka didn't seem to know what to do with that.

"Well, I'm off to get my head shrinked," Ibiki said cheerfully. He rose from his chair.

Anko giggled. "It's not 'shrinked', it's shrunk."

Ibiki ignored that and walked to the door. "Babysit the teacher until I come back, alright, Anko? Don't let anyone eat him."

"That's like leaving a rabbit with a crocodile," Iruka said. That was a reference to a classic folk tale.

Ibiki laughed. "I'm sure Anko won't skin you alive, Taichou."

Iruka flushed at the use of his new title.

"Oh!" Anko lit up, waving to get Ibiki's attention. "I know how to make a real shrunken head."

"Is that so?" Ibiki said tolerantly. He opened the door. "I've got to go. Bye."

"But – But –"

Ibiki grinned. "Why don't you tell it to the teacher?"

Anko turned upon Iruka enthusiastically. "Well, the first thing you do is remove the skull! That's how the head gets so tiny when you tan it. It's really cool."

The look on Iruka's face was priceless.

Ibiki walked down the hall, chuckling to himself at that last glance of Iruka's dismay before he closed the door.

**xXx**

Years ago, when he'd first been recovered from Amegakure, Ibiki had seen a therapist named Yamashiro Tatsuki; an aunt of Aoba's, he believed. Now, he was relieved to find that his appointment was with someone new altogether. He hated to come crawling back to the same person like a failure. Maybe someone who hadn't seen him at his worst would give him a little respect.

Not that Tatsuki-san hadn't been respectful at the time, but he distrusted anyone to keep respecting him after the things that had happened to him.

If he didn't have a trust issue like that, he wouldn't need therapy.

No, at the reception desk he found out that his appointment was with Wannai Kujira. Dr. Wannai. A psychologist, apparently. Anko had called out the big guns on him.

He sat down in the moderately comfortable, square-frame chair and shifted until he was in a position he could sit in for a while. He was ten minutes early, and from what he remembered, most people in this facility ran ten to fifteen minutes late. It was the kind of place where Kakashi would fit in.

_So this Dr. Wannai Kujira is going to try to put me together out of the handful of puzzle pieces I'm going to hand him today, after only having had a few hours at the most to review my file. Lovely. _

He wondered what Kujira would think of his rape experience. Most men couldn't imagine it. Didn't want to. Kujira might not be able to stomach it.

_Probably won't._ Ibiki could foresee himself fishing for therapists for a while. He'd had to do that before settling on Yamashiro Tatsuki in the end. It was a shame to throw away a good therapist who had worked for him, but he was too afraid to face her.

_Maybe this Kujira guy is going to be alright_. Ibiki tried to convince himself of that fact. _Yeah. Give him a chance._

At that, the door to the offices opened right on time, and a mild male voice said softly: "Morino Ibiki."

Ibiki stood and turned to face the man at the door directly. He was nothing special, physically. He was average height and weight, which meant far punier than Ibiki, and he had inoffensive brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. His hair was straight, parted in the center, and his face was framed by long forelocks. His eyes were a light brown. Straight nose, firm lips, small chin.

He finished memorizing the man's face and nodded. "I'm me."

Dr. Wannai bowed. "I am also me. My name is Wannai Kujira. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Save it for after the appointment," Ibiki said mildly.

The psychologist straightened and gestured. "Please follow me."

Ibiki noted how he'd failed to get a rise out of the man. _Not so much as a comment. Hmm. Nor a facial expression change. _

He followed the man down the hall, around a corner, and into an office that was completely nondescript. They were all painted indeterminable shades of off-white, blue, or green, all of them with the same kind of sort of comfortable furniture, and staid pictures on the walls. Snore-fests designed to make you concentrate.

Kujira sat down in the chair furthest into the room.

Ibiki had a choice of three chairs: one beside Kujira's, one in the middle area of the room, and the last by the door. He avoided the one by the door. That seat signaled anxiety and insecurity. He wasn't going to be that easy to crack. He chose the chair in the middle. The close seat was for clingy types. He wasn't that, either.

Kujira didn't have a clipboard, nor did he appear to have any forms for Ibiki to fill out, like self-assessments.

Ibiki was warily relieved.

"Please tell me your issues," Kujira said.

"That'd take too long," Ibiki said.

Kujira tilted his head. "Then tell me why you are here today."

"I've got a pushy guy following me around," Ibiki said. "He's officially my boyfriend now. I want to do him justice. Bastard. Straightening me out. I was comfortably broken. So. How are you going to fix me?"

"Depends," Kujira said.

"I mean, what are your methods?" Ibiki asked.

"Talk therapy and hypnosis," Kujira said. "Mostly. You need to say things that are on your mind and don't know how. Perhaps you also need to remember things and don't know how. That's what hypnotherapy is for."

"Talk therapy and hypnotherapy, huh?" Ibiki asked.

Kujira nodded. "Hai."

"Okay," Ibiki said. "Where do we start with me?"

"What do you want to fix first?" Kujira asked.

"My sex life," Ibiki said. "I want to have sex with Iruka without feeling like a fool. I also don't want to freak out, feel useless, helpless, or demeaned. Those are your criteria. I have shame problems and trust problems. Tell me how to get over that. I want a sex life and I want Iruka to have one, too."

"Why?" Kujira asked.

"Because I don't want him to leave me," Ibiki said. "I want to be worthy, of someone like him. I want to be…" He didn't have words for it. "Good enough." He settled for that description as a blanket covering all of the aspects of what he was trying to say.

"Are you sure that he finds you not good enough in the first place?" Kujira asked.

Ibiki shook his head. "He's not a judge of that. I am. I want someone better for him, and I want to be that someone."

"Very well," Kujira said. "What do you feel about yourself is harmful to Iruka right now?"

"My closed-offed-ness," Ibiki said. "My power and control issues, my trust issues, my inability to take him in my space without snapping at him. My resistance to him. My skittishness. My weakness to him. Whenever I'm around him I cry or I collapse all over him with some issue I haven't thought about in years."

"It sounds like you're decompressing," Kujira said.

"Yeah, maybe." Ibiki didn't consider that, and didn't want to.

"That's normal," Kujira said.

"I don't want to decompress all over him," Ibiki said. "It's not fair. He's a man. A good man. An important man. I'm just a –"

"Nationally renowned and important man," Kujira said. "Whom he happens to care for."

"Yeah." Ibiki was disgruntled. He looked at the psychologist with half-hooded eyes. "Please tell me you're not going to take his side."

"Which side is that?" Kujira asked.

"The side of 'oh, I'm going to be fine and I'm not that bad'," Ibiki said.

"Are you?" Kujira asked. "How do you feel that side to be different from your own?"

"They told me I might never get better," Ibiki said bluntly. "I probably wasn't. Ever. Going to be the same. And that's okay. I'm alive. I can live with that, as long as I get to be alive. But I can't live with someone overestimating me and thinking that someday, I can be normal, 'just like everybody else'." He was angry about it and hadn't even realized it. "To think that I can just get on with my life after what happened? It's absurd." He stared hard at the man. "No, I can't. Of course I can't. I'm a goddamned person! Not a machine. It's bullshit that I had to go back to work. Bullshit!"

He hadn't even known part of him felt this way. It scared him.

"What do you think will happen if you don't go to work?" Kujira asked gently.

"I think I'll be discharged," Ibiki said. "Killed."

"What makes you think so?" Kujira asked in that same gentle voice.

"Because I know state secrets and it's stupid to keep me alive," Ibiki said. "They should kill me if they can't make me work. I can't work…but if I can't…"

"Konoha's policy is not to kill its interrogators," Kujira said.

"What do you know?" Ibiki asked.

"I am a specialist in dealing with interrogators' trauma," Kujira said. "My specialty is the trauma of war, torture, and interrogation. Read my degree." He nodded at the wall.

Ibiki looked. The psychologist's certificate was hanging on the wall in a blue frame, the gold seal of approval plain as day. He blinked. Fancy lettering spelled out just what the psychologist said. Wannai Kujira, with all the appropriate titles surrounding the psychologist's name. Doctorate in Psychology, and in smaller letters, the psychologist's specialty.

"Anko really sent me to the top," Ibiki whispered, overcome. He should have trusted her to do something like this. She knew he was hurting.

Kujira nodded slowly. "I can't say that I'm the best psychologist in the country. I can, however, guarantee that I have a specialty in treating interrogators for their wounds."

Ibiki swallowed. "Okay." He didn't bother to ask why Kujira hadn't come out and said so at the beginning of their session. He'd been far too confrontational and closed off. The information wouldn't have had any impact.

Now that he'd started to let go, he could absorb his surroundings.

"The classic solution to the problem of what to do with wounded interrogators is to retire them with full benefits," Kujira said softly. "Would you like to do this? It would be a relatively simple matter."

Ibiki swallowed a lump in his throat. "N-No. My people need me."

"They would not be ashamed of your decision to retire," Kujira said.

"I-I'm only twenty…nine." The word almost died in Ibiki's throat.

"That is irrelevant," Kujira said. "Wounded ninjas get to retire at any time they please. You know this."

Ibiki did know this.

He had to take stock of his feelings. "I don't want to retire."

"Why not?" Kujira asked gently.

A lump rose to Ibiki's throat in spite of himself. "I'd miss them."

"Them?"

_Anko. Iruka. He was just starting to fit in around here. He took the miserable job, the 'promotion', just to give me some help. It would be unfair to quit._ "My co-workers," Ibiki said.

"Wouldn't they visit you?" Kujira asked.

Ibiki sighed. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because…" Ibiki wondered if he should even bother explaining. "No one's as close to me as I am to them. They don't even know."

"Then tell them," Kujira said.

"I'm still not retiring." Ibiki stared him down.

"Okay." Kujira didn't seem bothered.

"I'm here to talk about my intimacy issues," Ibiki said pointedly.

"You are welcome to talk about whatever you want to talk about with me," Kujira said.

Ibiki deflated, his irritation ebbing away. "I just want to be able to please my boyfriend without getting scared half out of my skull."

"Why are you scared?" Kujira asked.

"Because I think it's gonna hurt if I penetrate him," Ibiki said. No sense mincing words.

"Hurt you, or hurt him?" Kujira asked quietly.

"Both," Ibiki said.

"Why is that?"

Ibiki looked away. "Because it might."

Kujira pursued the topic in a gentle voice. "Why might it?"

"Because he's – because I love him," Ibiki said.

"And?"

"I always hurt the people I love." Ibiki hurt just saying it.

Kujira gestured. "Ah. There is the lie. That. Mark it down so you can examine it."

"What?" Ibiki was taken aback.

"You believe a certain series of lies, because you have been led to believe them," Kujira said. "You are also trained not to examine them too closely. The first step to fighting the lies is to pinpoint what they are. The second step is to write them down. The third is to examine them and understand the ways in which these ideas are lies. The final, fourth step is letting go of those lies, so that you can live a more fulfilled life."

Ibiki took this in. "So I need to write down that I hurt the people I love? Where?"

"In a journal," Kujira said. "Someplace safe. But that you have easy access to. We are going to be compiling this list of lies as we go along."

That left only one question. "How did this happen?" Ibiki asked.

"You're an interrogator," Kujira said softly. "I'm sure you know. Moreover…you're an interrogator who has been interrogated."

A heavy weight sank into the pit of Ibiki's stomach. "Oh." Programming. Programming he could hardly remember…because that was the point. To imbed hurtful things into his subconscious, where they could continue to break him down. _And the lie about hurting my loved ones was triggered by Gekkou's death. That's why I'm sure it's my fault. Because he died, and I was there… _He realized suddenly that by saying 'I was there' he was missing the point that he wasn't there when Gekkou was attacked. There was no way for him to do anything because he _wasn't_ there. It was just self-blaming language.

Kujira watched him silently, nodding at his understanding.

"We have a lot of work to do," Ibiki said finally.

"Yes," Kujira agreed softly. "We do."


End file.
